This eerie individual sits across me on the train. He must be on his forties. I can't help but noticing how strange he seems to be. He sports a fluorescent orange safety vest and camouflage pants. He also has the most peculiar tattoo on his right hand: it doesn't read or depict anything and it was made long ago with cheap ink which with time has turned greenish. It must be a reminiscence from jail, I decide. I try to concentrate on my book, but his very clumsy ways disgust me. He tries to drink from his one liter coke bottle and spills it all over his chest even though he is clearly not drunk. I'm shocked by his filthy, massive, rough fingers that brush past my leg when trying to reach for the trash can where he touches the trash with his bare hands. I feel shivers down my spine and tremble a little the millisecond his index finger touches my thigh. I think I am going to throw up but I close my eyes and try to keep my cool. He can't stop staring at me, he must find me peculiar too, just like anyone else does, I think. One of his cold steel-blue eyes pops, it looks like those of that well known cartoon figure but in this case it is not funny at all. The journey is long and his whole presence is terribly unsettling... I wonder why he makes me uneasy, so uneasy that I need to write these lines in order not to lose it. I look through the window and try to enjoy the beautiful landscape covered with snow or to go on with my book, that is open on page 43 since the man sat across from me on the train. But a not yet identifiable sensation has crawled under my skin, I might get home to shower and wash off this weirdest feeling ever.
I'm freezing, I stand up to get my coat to use it as a blanket. I take a look around and I realize we are the only two passengers sitting in the whole coach.
My eyes get blurry, I need to sit down. Still 25 minutes to go.
