I simply cannot bring myself to throw away the map someone dropped. I picked it up on a train. It happened on my way home from a part-time job, just as I dashed into the station, drenched by the rain. A slender woman was walking right in front of me. She was a blonde older woman wearing a sleeveless top and short pants. She carried herself with pride, her body boasting distinct, twin peaks above and below. Before I knew it, I was so captivated by those great hills that I wandered onto a platform heading in the opposite direction of my home. My head felt strangely foggy. My mind was filled with those high peaks, and I found myself positioned right behind her. Perhaps five minutes passed like that. The train arrived at the platform. As I looked up, my eyes were drawn to the nape of her neck. The skin glimpsed beneath her ponytail was moist from the rain. The train doors opened. At that moment, something inside me opened, too. Drawn by her pace, I boarded the train.
The woman placed her bag on the luggage rack above the seats and sat down near the door. My gaze poured into the curves that sketched a voluptuous dream. I grew careless. Pushed by the crowd, I was swept to the opposite side of the carriage. I was in agony. I could almost see her body, yet I couldn’t. I tried desperately—though as subtly as possible—to catch a glimpse through the gaps between passengers. All I could barely see was her face and an older woman chatting next to her. That woman’s suitcase was in the way, and other passengers stood between us. But I didn’t give up. Suddenly, her eyes met mine. My heart skipped a beat. Her gaze shifted from my eyes downward. At that moment, the train doors opened again. Her eyes moved from below back up to mine. Then, with a small, mocking snort, she grabbed her bag and got off. I was devastated. I wanted to follow her. But the crush of passengers wouldn’t allow it; they jostled and shoved through the narrow exit after her. By the time I tried to follow, the doors slammed shut.
The carriage became nearly empty. I stood there alone, dazed, staring at the seat she had vacated. Just then, something fluttered down. It was a map. Reflexively, I picked it up. It was damp from the rain. Driven by a sudden thought, I flung it open. It was a map of Paris.
Since then, I’ve been throwing myself into my part-time job more than ever. It’s for the day I finally scale those proud twin peaks. I know, deep down, that the map might actually belong to the lady sitting next to her. Even so, I just can’t bring myself to throw it away.
