When I take a subway I peep at the other people and let my imagination fly. For example, yesterday, a man who was knitting drew my attention. Maybe he was knitting for his grandmother, living in a nursing center in his country, just waiting for him. He has not visited her for many years. He might not go this Christmas either. So, he decided to send her the scarf with his love. That’s why he was knitting. He was quite good at knitting. The scarf was pink and purple. That would look well on her and he smiled. He has not had enough time to finish it, so the knitting material was always on him.On the other side, there was a guy who looked upset, almost crying, but he did not cry as other men did. Beside him, there was another man. I supposed that he was his lover. Five minutes passed, tears flowed down his cheeks. His lover tried to mop his tears. It is Christmas season when everyone is supposed to be happy. Why was he crying? The man was white and the other Asian. No matter what color they have, it was obvious they deeply loved each other. Even if one was a man and the other was too. I think how beautiful true love is.
In the corner, there was a girl with a big backpack. Maybe she was just coming back from her trip. In the backpack, there were a plenty of gifts to make her family happy and dirty clothes tasting of fatigue. One sunny but sluggish afternoon, when she saw an antique mug at a flea market in a small town, it might have reminded her of her mother. She did not hesitate to purchase it. Her mom would be able to have her dark brown coffee in it every morning. There was also a well-worn teddy bear for her younger sister. She could see her hugging it. And a fur hat, it was for her father. She was pleased that it keeps his ears from being attacked by cold.
I stepped out with their happiness thinking of the warmth of my house.









