As I sit here on the subway I look around and catch the occasional glance returned back at me before eyes quickly dart away.  It is that minute before recognizing that someone has just seen you that you wonder what is going on in the depths of that individuals mind. What are they thinking?  Are their thoughts on their destination? Is it the events or location of where they just left or are they on something completely random?

It is that last option that intrigues me. You could almost write the story yourself for any of the people on this train. I wonder if this is now how novels are born?  You always find one person that intrigues you. You watch them analysing them. Trying to discover hat their lives must be like. Your mind drifts as you begin to paint the picture for them.  You don't need to know. Your interpretation is much more exciting, adventurous.

It is then, when it hits you square in the face.  You are compensating, remapping everything you wish your own life was, onto the frame of another commuter.