* You awoke just in time to stop your head from smacking into the solid, dull grey seat in front of you. Thankfully, it was unoccupied, but anyone sitting close to you would have been given quite a laugh, had you remained sleeping for even a second longer. The train had built up considerable speed, and had begun to sway rhythmically as it barreled along the track; that must have been why you lost balance. Sheepishly, you glance over your shoulder. Luckily for you, the car was practically empty; the back seats were all that were filled. There was no sign of that woman, or her child. What was that kid's name? You'd heard it at least thirty times over the course of the first twenty minutes of this journey.
* "Button, sit down! You're going to wake up that old lady, Button! Button, put those back in mommy's bag before somebody sees!"
* Whatever 'those' were, you never found out, as you'd finally reached breaking point and moved forward a few rows, into your current seat. What the hell kind of name was 'Button', anyway? As you were taking in the car's new emptiness, a door just behind the farthest seats slid open.
* It was that woman, her hands held slightly in front of her, glancing around the tiny, pale white room in which she was still standing. Seemingly given up on whatever she was searching for, she bent forward and began wiping her hands on her black, hip hugging pencil skirt. That must be the bathroom, then. Spending the majority of any train, plane or boat ride inside of one wasn't all that uncommon for you; any kind of motion was just too alien for your stomach to handle. Thankfully, this time around, you'd managed to hold out quite well against the increasing intensity of the train's occasionally violent motions.
* What made this trip different?
* Your moment of inquisition was cut short, as the movements of Button's mom had once again seized your attention. Leaning back, she pulled at the small crease she'd created in her cream colored blouse. Short sleeves, modest neckline, a little bow tied at the top. Cute. Her silky, light brown hair had been bound in a rather loose ponytail, which she had draped lazily over her right shoulder. After running her hand through her fringe, which had been swept to gracefully fall across the right side of her face, she began the short trip back to her seat. The sound of her heels harshly clicking at the floor of the train, however, was anything but graceful. You couldn't see them, due to the number of seats obstructing your view, but you knew they must have been killer.
* It was only now that you realized you'd completely glanced over that Button kid during your earlier surveillance of the car. He was asleep. Thank God. His mother seemed to be thinking the same thing, as she sat down beside him, bearing the widest smile you'd seen on any passenger's face all day. For a while, she remained motionless, her warm, loving gaze staying unbroken. On second thought, maybe she...