#53

A wet black nose, wriggling beneath a green plastic seat. A red rope, leading to a man, above. His hand reaches down to calm, sooth, stroke. People shuffle on board, scowling, frowning, hair still wet, teeth gritty with toothpaste, stomachs grumbling, coffees exhaling steam. Golden body sniffing, pink tongue licking unnoticed at pant legs passing. It shifts, sits up, rests itself against a stranger who waves off the owner’s apology, remembering a tender spot swelling in his chest at the radiant warmth pressed to his leg, at the innocent pulse of life he long forgot. At last, owner reaches down, pulls the beast from beneath the seat, brings it to his chest, cradles it as he prepares to depart. A ripple, a wave, as one by one, faces see, soften, corners of eyes crease at a rare delight on an otherwise mundane morning.