Claire takes the 378 train home everyday home from work. Forty-two minutes from start to stop. Forty-two minutes to read, or text, or rest, play games on her phone.
The train starts out crowded, often with many standing. She doesn't mind male or female, young or old sitting next to her. What she does mind is a chatter-box.
A tall business woman plops herself down next to her this day. Says nothing. She has a fashionable backpack and a large purse with her. The backpack ends up on the floor. The purse falls into her lap.
The train pulls away from the station, and like many on the train, the tall woman seemingly doses off within moments. And within moments her hands slips out from under her purse and falls between them, mostly touching her own thigh.
Claire has seen this and experienced this a hundred times. Fellow commuter falls asleep, fellow commuter unwittingly spreads their body and their possessions around them. She could write a book. From toys to jackets, from hands to feet, from books to phones. Sleeping people spread.
In her experience people rarely contract inward. They expand. Possessions get pushed outward. Bodies relax and stretch-out.
She is not fully opposed to it. She's a bit on the lonely side and she's been affection starved for years.
With a slight move of her hips she moves her leg until the woman's knuckles are just barely touching her jeans. She knows from experience if she moves too fast this will all come to nothing.
But she also knows that if she moves slowly, very slowly, something might come of it. slowly, very, very slowly she moves her thigh a bit more and more. Small incremental movements.
She does this to make more and more contact with her thigh and the woman's hand. She knows from past experience that woman might keep her and where it is, wedged softly between each of theirs outer thighs.
She's successful. She also know that the woman might wake up at any moment, realize they're touching and retract into her own personal space. But so far, so good.
She puts her hand on her own thigh. This is the next step. To slowly slide her hand down the outside of her thigh until it touches the other woman's hand. Well, the outside of her hand and the thumb and forefinger of the other woman.
She moves slowly. Very, very, very slowly.
What takes minutes is successful. Their hands are touching. Her thigh is touching the back of her hand. Two points of contact. She feels it. Human touch. A bit forced and manipulated, but human contact nonetheless.
She closes her eyes ready to dose herself. She's done this before. She needs it. She likes it. If the other woman wakes up she wont presume anything but normal dosing mistakes.
She doses. Blissfully. Sweetly.