The sounds of the pitter patter against the window. The wheezing of the trains engine. I stare at the patterns the rain creates as it glides down the windows cold glass. The sun barely shines through cracks in the clouds, and warms our skins pale tone. The sound of a women talking to a loved one on her phone, her voice soft yet passionate. The sound of pages being turned while the reader is immersed in the story the may miss their stop. As the crowd parts i see you. Soft and delicate, you stand handsome. You smile a charming smile as our eyes meet. The train picks up the pace and the engine sounds strong and willful as it creeps into my station. I brush past the crowd and loose you again. We walk home bumping shoulders underneath your yellow umbrella.