4 o’clocky FREEWRITE QUEEN OF HARTS

Today My fouroclocky is a freewrite, not My strongest suit but I love doing different blogs so hope you enjoy, if not I am sorry.....

From his train compartment he sees her with hasty steps entering the station. He was already comfortable sitting on the train. Her black heels make a rhythmically sound through the trainstation and with each noisy step her breasts moved up and down under her black casmere sweater. She is beautiful. Blond lushes curls that falls over her left shoulder, like a real queen of harts, or how at least he thinks a queen of harts will look like. Her face is covered with freckles, Almost Fascinated, he watches her take a short sprint and dive into the train just before the conductor from the NS blew his whistle.He was catched by the moment.

Carefully she puts down her bags a little later in the train and then plunges into a chair on the other side of his trainseat with a deep sigh. Her cheeks and forehead are red and sparkling drops of sweat on her forehead sparkle in the late afternoon sun coming through the train window.

He looks at her overall spirit for a moment about to smile at her without her seeing. She looks up in surprise, realizes he is looking and smiles back, making two lovely small dimples shoot into her Peachy cheeks. For a moment they are caught in each other's eyes, but soon they both in fear turn their eyes down again. He thinks oh : My lord Why did i look.
Both not knowing what to say or do. They both fear the unknown. She grabs her mobile and starts playing on her phone. He puts his earplugs in, puts up a music list and stares out the window. "She might as well have been sitting on the moon, she is too beautiful for me, a real queen of harts and a pity not mine" he thinks to himself as he closes his eyes. Slowly he starts to doze off.

Dozing off on the rythm of train during his cummuting to and from work is the best.
Today he daydreamed of her, thinking of her walking through a cornfield, lively like nothing mattered in the world. The smell When her hair was flying in his face cause of the wind.... and her look, those eyes.....

All of a sudden a female voice came from the trainspeakers...: WE ARE APPROACHING AMSTERDAM CENTRAL STATION AND AFTER THAT AMSTERDAM SCHIPHOL AIRPORT this was his home station, and from now on this Will be THE QUEEN OF HARTS STATION, cause this ride Will be one he wont forget for a long time.

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Sources used : My own private stock collection, Google and with others its mentioned in the blog.

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