Welcome back to Crowds: Preeti. I am so thankful and appreciative of all the views, likes, love and comments on Preeti’s first chapter. This style of writing was/is so refreshing to me, so I hope you enjoy reading Part Two as much as I enjoyed writing it! To catch up on part one of Preeti’s story, click here, I hope you enjoy!
Preeti: Part Two
As people trickled out the door at Southern Cross station, Preeti shook her head to wake herself up and cleared her throat. The carriage was now mainly full with black over coats, silver or gold watches and beeping smart phones. She wrapped the grey Cotton On jacket that she had brought a few years ago on discount and then flattened the creases she just noticed in the white shirt that she had picked out the night before; she had even ironed it too. Quietly she muttered to herself, unimpressed with how she felt, her uninteresting outfit was substandard when she compared herself to everyone else around her. They looked polished, sophisticated, and seemed as if the air that they breathed filtered out all the dirt, pollutants and ordinary; she wished that she could breathe like that. She breathed in, hoping that when she exhaled she had captured some of their charm and their knowingness of the world. She sighed, officially as of today it has been eighteen months since she graduated from her business degree. She huffed soberly to herself as she remembered the last exam that she ever took, which was ironically a stupid Psychology Art elective which she needed to do in order to complete the degree. She remembered walking naively out of the exam room elated that her life was just about to begin, fifteen or so years of education was over! All she would have to do is apply for a job, attend the interview in the next week and just like her sisters she would be employed fulltime. Being the last daughter to graduate, it was assumed that this would be the natural order of things.
The train slowly turned and a full view of the city came to full view, its usual vibrant colour was completely washed out by the overcast that covered the sky so that the buildings and people appeared monochrome. Preeti fiddled with the leather strap of her watch, a gift from her father at her graduation. Ironically, Uni’s decide to host the ceremony for their graduates months and months after their actual last class. In her graduating business degree, just under forty of the three hundred graduates had secured themselves a job. Preeti was not one of them. Shaking the discouragement and doubt that she felt clustering in the back of her head like an unwanted emotional hairball, Preeti decided to focus on the city. Even though she had expected most of her rejection from interviews in the city, to her the city of Melbourne was just like a big massive grey pool, and each time she travelled into it she just needed to learn how to stay afloat. She immersed herself in the moment, took in all the unfiltered air that she could as the train pulled up to the platform and she stepped out amongst the crowds of people who flocked to the escalator. Clutching her handbag and squeezing her shoulders together, the thin escalator moved up and spat out the morning commuters into the den of Flinders Street. Instantly the smell of grinding coffee, freshly deep fried pastry’s mixed with the floral bust of women’s perfume and sharp snap of men’s cologne filled the air.
As she made her way to the Myki gates, a man bumped into her. Tripping slightly, her phone fell out of her hands and smashes against the tiling. She picked up her phone and looked up at the man.
Instantly her eyes went wide and froze as his head bopped down at her. Then his whole demeanour began to fill with warm a happiness, almost as if his head was filling with toasty memories.
He blinked after a moment and put a hand on her shoulder, “Shit, I’m sorry about your phone. Is it broken?”
“No!” Preeti said, tightening her grip on the crumbling plastic case. She felt it crack in between her hands as his eyes began to smoulder through the lenses of his glasses.
“You never called me back, avoiding me?” He asked playfully. Preeti’s eyes went wider as she glanced nervously into the distance.
“I will,” she chirped, her voice high and thin, “I’ve just being busy.”
“Me too Preet,” Arjun cooed, he then leaned in, she caught a whiff of toothpaste and the fresh scent of soap, “But I always have time for you,” he tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear and then winked.
“Drinks sometime?” He asked.
* Pretti’s Story [Part Three] continues next Monday [Mon/13/ARP].
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