Commuter Life The most striking person I know lives around the corner from me. I know not her name or where she is from. I've heard her speak but once. She is a girl out of time. She's modelled herself on the paintings of Rossetti, her red hair tied up in a bun, her skin a milky white. She wears flowery dresses, blue cardigans and a velvet coat of emeralde. She carries a croched shopping bag. She's breathtaking as she weaves about the modern world, amongst the business suits and tracksuits, seemingly unconcerned by polution and concrete. I saw her on the train the other day and it seemed incongruous that she would be travelling anywhere. To me she always just seems to be just there - and that's where I hope she'll stay.

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