First Time on the Train: Nervous Sparks in an Empty Compartment
The train compartment felt like my private world. Empty. Quiet. I sprawled my sketches across the opposite bench. Portraits from the station chaos: the signing couple, the African cleaner, the blondes, the proposing Asians. Each one hid my dirty fantasies. Two hours of strike bullshit had turned into erotic fever dreams. Proud of the lines,…