Dec. 6th, 2004

He investigated the magazines, with a sketch pad under his arm, and then went to sit on a bench on the platform, where I watched him, out of the window, and just for that moment, I felt as if I was in love with him, until the train started to move.

He sat next to me on the train, tearing up paper throughout the journey. Sometimes he would stop and speak in business tones to someone called "Helix Pumpkin".

He looked like a zombie, and his dark eyes were focused, unblinking, on something behind me, something not real, a pint that was no longer there, perhaps. He did not move at all during the time in which I watched him.

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