The story so far: Bianca can’t complain about any lack of male interest. Still, it’s been a long time since she was truly in love.
‘What dismal weather,’ she thought. Soon she would have to cycle the last leg of the journey. All part and parcel of living in the country. Thinking back to the evening before brought a smile to Bianca’s face. At long last it had been another really fun open party. She had been surprised how many people she had run into. One guy was still in her head. She had spoken to him briefly at the party, when she went to buy tokens. He had sparkling eyes and glossy brown hair. She could look into eyes like those for hours on end.
Bianca’s train arrived at Utrecht Central station twenty minutes before her connection was due. All sorts of people were milling about. One person was running, someone else was tapping along with a white cane. She saw a crowd of people and heard piano music. For a little while now a piano had been standing in the middle of the concourse; it was played regularly. Unfortunately the musical ability of the passengers in transit was often disappointing. Now it sounded good. A guy with a head of curls was playing and an olive-skinned girl was singing. Bianca wormed her way through the crowd to get a better view. She heard the words, ‘Cause all of me, loves all of you’. She thought again about the boy from the evening before. She hadn’t caught his name; hopefully he would find her on Facebook.
Bianca awoke with a start from her daydream. The crowd was clapping for the musical duo. The olive-skinned girl disappeared into the mass of travellers. Bianca glanced at the clock. ‘Five twenty?’ she thought in alarm. As fast she could, she grabbed her bags and sprinted away. She had only one minute to catch her train. She pushed past a couple of guys on the escalator and jumped aboard the train before the doors closed behind her. Out of breath but relieved, she stood for a moment and looked out the window, watching the train leave the platform. She felt a tap on her shoulder. A guy’s voice spoke. ‘Aren’t you Bianca? Weren’t you at the token desk yesterday evening?’ Bianca flushed, and feeling a tiny rush of excitement, she turned round.
Text: Simone Rijlaarsdam Illustration: Kim Peterse