Fleeting moment

One second, two at the most. Not enough time even to react in any meaningful way. But, still, one of those interactions that has the power to evoke strong but seemingly incompatible reactions. He was 11, maybe 12 at most. He'd just got off of my train back from work, at one of the intermediate stations, earlier this evening, from the carriage behind mine, with his family. He was just lovely. As the train began to move off, he began 'play chasing' his little brother along the platform, using the high, exaggerated steps kids use when they want to look like they're running in slow motion, and I couldn't help but watch and smile. Then he looked up at the train - and smiled and waved. At me. Without a doubt, at me. It could, I suppose, have been sarcastic, but it certainly looked genuinely happy and friendly. Then, as the train accelerated away, he was gone. Then the dichotomous emotions kicked in. A moment of near elation, delight at the apparent connection. A few seconds later, almost diametrically opposite deflation, as the hopelessness of my situation asserted itself, the knowledge that it's vanishingly unlikely that I'd ever see him again, and even if I did, it's equally unlikely that anything would come of it. I've said it before, but I'll say it again, anyway - the haters call this, this torture, a choice?

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B