She didn’t have to bother me.But I didn’t.I figured she would be getting off soon anyway, she was your stereotypical business woman, or “strict ...eacher”, if that was your thing, with her hair tied in a knot on top of her head and glasses that seemed a little too big for her face.She was wearing a black jacket with a grey blouse underneath, a skirt the slid up from her knees when she sat down and long, slim legs in high heels.Not dressed for a long train ride.I, on the other hand, was dressed. ‘Hey, Vera,’ someone yelled chipper. She looked back and saw a man from the last class she’d taught. He was kind of a hippie, his hair in dreads, always wearing colourful loose trousers and he was always trying to flirt with her and asking her out. Bragging about his trip to India or trying to name the yoga poses in Sanskrit. Brett something was his name. Vera didn’t date students, and even if she did Brett just wasn’t her type. He was dominant and controlling and quite condescending every once. More

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