mystery man

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One of my favourite places to be is the Subway, although after catching trains to and from work every day for the past 6 years I guess you have to learn to appreciate it. I like the feeling I get from watching hundreds of people rush by, bumping into one another as I sit still, each one of them has a different life, family and place to be, that of which I will never know. When the train finally comes gliding through the underground station, coming to a sudden stop, the people jump up from their seats like panicked fish out of water. All pushing each other away just get on the train first. I however, from years of waiting, I know exactly where the train stops every day, so I can stand right in front of the slowly opening doors and get a seat before anybody else.

Every morning on the journey to my office in the City, which exactly 1 hour and 23 minutes from the station opposite my apartment, I study the person sitting on the uncomfortable chair directly opposite me. In the sheep skin journal that I carry around everywhere, I write a story about them, predicting what their life is like. Yesterday it was a teenage a girl, she had had long wavy silver hair with a perfectly shaped face and hazel eyes, I wrote that she had just graduated High school and it was her first day at University studying to be a lawyer, she had a perfect life one that I would have liked to have. I think that one was pretty accurate seeming as the got off at White Street Station, the closest station to Graham University. The day before that was an old man, he was holding a bunch of pure white flowers his face was emotionless and he had stared out the window above by head for the entire trip. I wrote that his wife for 40 years had passed away and he was going to...

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...w I was onto him now. “What’s in here then?” I yelled after him, pulling at the case he was holding too-tightly in one hand. He pulled the case out of my grip with too much force causing him to lose his own grip. The black leather case hit the floor corner first causing it to come open revealing the contents. I looked up at man who was now staring at me in shock. He turned around and ran down the street and back into subway, gone before I could blink. I looked back down at the case full with stacks and stacks of 100 dollar notes. I swiftly bent down to close the case and walked away, before he could come back, as if nothing had happened at all. I wondered where he was heading with that case and he reason for all the money but whatever the reason it will look definitely look nicer on my shelf next to the diamond necklace I took from that silly teenage girl yesterday.

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