The train ride he took every single working day, took him into the city.
He lived in a suburban flat, some 12 miles away.
The city centre was a soul less, modern amalgam of concrete, steel and cold glass, seemingly in existence solely so it may serve as a platform for cold, soul less meetings between greedy, soul less business 'people' and provide the physical foundation for crass skyscrapers to advertise to the masses their owners morally questionable successes.
He was a minion.
Just one of the countless people employed by the greedy, to serve functions too lowly for the powerful to consider personally.
His duties lacked the lure of challenge. His responsibilities were slight. His working conditions oppressive and his salary meagre.
Every time he took the train to his workplace, he felt a little more of his life force was being drained from him, his vital energy coldly converted into profits for someone whose identity would probably forever remain unknown to him.
This was his twelfth week.
It was Monday, and his monotonous, tedious cycle of rape was beginning again.
He felt he was being bent over and screwed up the ass, cruelly taken advantage of, his body merely a tool to be exploited for the benefit of the mysterious, unstoppable, man made force.
He first saw her standing at the other end of his carriage.
He had noticed many people on this train over the last 11 weeks.
Most were 'grey', their lives and hopes having being absorbed by the 'machine', the pernicious modus operandi of modern global enterprise.
But some were different.
They were full of 'colour', still brimming with Life's energies.
Perhaps they were the ones in charge, the ones who had the power he pondered? The ones who decided a person's future...and their fate?
But he thought that unlikely. They would not be on this train.
The only train they rode was the gravy train and like Hogwarts it departed from a platform known only to a chosen few who possessed special privileges and powers.
No, they were the people who had defiantly turned their backs to the system, who were not walking the common road but the road less travelled.
The road that promised an adventure. That promised Life.
The road that not just preserved but invigorated their spirit.
They were 'alternative' people.
She was full of 'colour' too.
And beautiful. Desirable. In the way that affects a young mans consciousness during the day and at night, pervades his dreams.
His interest in her was now sparked and he hoped this day marked the beginning of a new chapter in his life.
A chapter in which he would begin to live again.
To regain his life force and embrace the vitality and delicious sensuality this beautiful creature promised.
The train stopped and more grey people got onboard.
Their baggage? Black briefcases and sombre faces.
Resigned to serve and devoid of dreams.
He lost sight of her in the crowded carriage and strained to locate her, but to no avail.
He felt his heart die a little and at the next stop forced himself to exit through the automatic doors and leave her behind, for this was his destination, not knowing if he would ever see her again, that beautiful, delicious vision of hope.
He walked the 4 minute walk to 'his' cold, concrete place of employment, rode the lift to 'his' floor and sat at 'his' workstation.
It was 9:00 am.
The day promised little and, as usual, delivered less.
All day, his mind turned to that glorious vision on the train.
He now regretted getting off.
Perhaps he should have sought her among the grey? Like a prospector hungrily seeking a nugget of gold concealed amongst the dry, worthless rubble.
He could have called in sick. He certainly felt so.
He had caught something this morning, not a disease as such but an infection none the less.
It was not infatuation.
It was Desire.
There was no cure but why indeed should one be necessary?
The day's work came to a halt at 5:00pm precisely.
He shut down the computer, put pens and pencils into the drawer and rode the lift down to the crowded street below.
He walked the 4 minutes to the station, boarded the 5.14 and spent the rest of the evening pondering the positive possibilities and the inherent implications, he hoped this newly discovered sensual being may have upon his life.
He did not even know her name.
In fact he knew nothing about her but that didn't stop his desperate search for a future in which he was happy. This sensual, young woman promised that.
But there were no guarantees. At the back of his mind he knew that but he enjoyed the potential none the less.
His vision and his hope (and imagination) were strong.
The next day saw him waiting at the station platform for the 8.22.
He alighted as usual and jostled for a position among the throng.
Most occupied their minds with 'smart' phones, aimlessly navigating their way through a labyrinth of infinite pathways, ever hopeful of finding 'the' answer as to why they were on their phone at all.
He gazed out of the window at the sprawling view of civilization and then he saw her!
They had arrived at the same station as the day before, noteworthy only for her presence.
