[i:3174e5c387]I hop onto the Orange Line and am temporarily stunned by the bitter odor of cheap malt liquor. Making certain to avoid eye contact with the pitiful homeless figure weeping for his broken bottle of Olde English, I move towards the back to the metro car, passing through various crowds of students and business men and women.

They're an eclectic crowd to say the least, some in finely tailored suits, others in pale green scrubs still scented with the almost obscenely steriles fumes of Washington D.C's hospitals. Students of school and liberal studies wear their hair a bit shaggier, some would say unkempt. If "they" knew how much time went into the meticulous grooming and fashioning, unkempt would be an adjective that was quickly put out of use.

I've no room to talk however, as I'm one of those liberal students. I'm right in with the newly vogue scarves and petty-coats. Thick rimmed glasses that got my father beat up in high school fifty years ago are now loved and considered refined. The only difference between me and the herd is that I know who I am....and I don't care.

I slip past them without a word, drawing the same eager eyes I always do. That desire to talk to me without presenting their vulnerable little souls on a platter. I ignore them.

The bum weeps only now, but I pay no attention and I plop myself onto the sticky orange vinyl of the train's seats. From my knapsack, I pull out a Washington Post and begin to peruse the headlines. After some catching up on the morning's events, I approach my station. Pulling down the hood of my red sweatshirt, the color of passion, I step off of the train and inhale the air.

It's good to be alive.[/i:3174e5c387]

[i:58947c39f4]I stalk the platform like an animal of prey. Without committing a complete glance, I can just make out my angular features in the dirt smudged tiles on the metro walls. Completely confident in my surroundings, I move swiftly through the crowd.

By the time I reach the peak of the platform's escalator my cool azure eyes have grown accustomed to the darkened interior of the city's underbelly. Harsh, white sun pours over me, taking a bit of the November's cold chill from my body. The sun's assault is met with an oversized pair of sunglasses, usually the distinct calling card of B-Movie police officer's.

As I make my way towards the campus, moving at a leisurely pace despite the fact that my class started nearly twenty minutes ago, I spot her. Smooth, smiling, vestile. Her smile burns through the crowd of mundanes. The grey, filth of the world is instantly washed away, and I know must have her.[/i:58947c39f4]

((Hmm thought you disliked the first person style? Nice intro though, lead on McDuff!

[i:013d765697][b:013d765697]ooc[/b:013d765697] : Don`t stop writing on this one, it`s an intriguing story... keep it on ![/i:013d765697]

(( Nice stuff man..god its good to see you all still writing :D

((oooh. I like.))