Sitting here on a train to Springfield , crocheting every inch of the way , I rather feel like Miss Marple . I sit quietly sipping my coffee , my fingers working quickly through the stitches .
I don't engage people in conversation , they approach me on their own . I watch them , wondering what their story is , making one up in my own head in amusement .
On the second stop , a young woman in her thirties sat down next to me . She opens her Nora Roberts novel and almost immediately keeps nodding off . Shifting in her aisle seat , she keeps jerking awake with a gasp . Fully awakened and feeling embarrassed , she tells me of her night terrors ever since her little girl passed away a few years back . Oh , how she wishes she could just rest her head for a minute .
Would you like to change seats with me ?
Her face lights up in gratitude , and upon changing , immediately curls up , laying her head on the window sill and falls fast asleep for the rest of the journey. I say a small prayer for her rest .
It's amazing what people confide in me . I'm a perfect stranger and maybe that's what so easy , they don't have to see me again . I really must resemble the elderly Miss Marple . She , too , had people tell her all sorts of things . Why not ? She looked perfectly harmless , always a ball of yarn and knitting needles close by. Sitting and observing all that is around her .
An elderly couple sitting across from me , leaned over and asked if I could watch their things while they went for lunch in the cafe . I nod yes , thinking how grandmotherly I must appear to people . It must be the crocheting . Crocheting fills me with a calmness and I suppose the serenity is evident upon my face .
I look over behind me and catch the eye of the person sitting there . It seems they were watching me watch everyone else the entire time . Oh , the irony !
Have a Blessed day everyone .
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