Lust

The alarm clock woke me this morning from a dreamless sleep. The best kind of sleep.
There's not really much to tell about my morning. I spent it reading a bit of G.R.A.E.s file. I need to memorize it. I'm supposed to make my lodgings look normal. What IS normal? A bunch of home accessory catalogues has dumped through the weird narrow opening in the door.
I looked through them. They’re so messy and full of colours. Humans are so chaotic.

As I'm writing this down in my journal, I'm in a train towards the capitol. My guts tell me this is where I'll find him.
"My guts tell me" My contact says this all the time. A weird thing to say. Guts don't tell anything, they make occasional sounds when you're hungry or digesting. Guts don't think or speak. I wonder who came up with such a remark?

There's no one sitting next to me or right in front of me, I have my own private space. Loud talk is disturbing my thoughts though. There's a couple sitting in the seats on the other side of the isle, by the window. Their feet inside their shoes, resting on the seat in front of them.
The woman is clearly under the influence of the stinking liquid in the bottle she drinks of so greedily. The man is laughing hoarsely, pushing his bag away a little, to lean closer to the woman, his careless movement making the bottles hidden in the bag ring.
Their smell is horrid, I can smell their lust for each other, their desperate attempt to be younger than they are.
She's kissing him, placing her painted sticky lips on his sacking cheek.
I know the other passengers has noticed the noisy couple and still they just ignore it, like some twisted idea of politeness.
I'm starring at them. I think the woman has noticed. Yes, she just smiled at me with that shiny mouth, revealing yellow teeth. I know her man hasn't noticed me. It's uncomfortable, I feel exposed, I'm not supposed to be noticed. But how can I not? I'm so clearly different from most Outsiders, with my white hair and gaunt features.
She... she thinks I'm a drug-addict... what is that? She finds me pretty?!
The train is slowing down, the couple is leaving the compartment. They're getting of at the next stop.
What a relief! I don't like it when people broadcast so clearly that I hear their thoughts.

I'm getting of at the next stop. I need air.