This is the time when I am alone, no doubt after the separation from E. . And so I'm on a hunt... for a man! During my summer vacation, I will spend a few days of vacation in St Raphaël, with my parents. I had friends in Marseille whom I had known thanks to E. who had lived there for a while. I was invited to spend a day there. I take the St Raphaël – Marseille return train. On the return journey, in a rather old regional train, with compartments, I am seated on the aisle side, in front of uninteresting people, except for a young guy, on the window side, sitting opposite me, slightly diagonally and who caught the eye! I can barely see his face. Her crotch looks promising! He watches the landscape go by – at least, that’s what I think! I observe him furtively out of the corner of my eye so as not to attract the attention of the neighbors in the compartment. I want him to look at me but, strangely, he doesn't take his eyes off the outside, even when crossing a tunnel. Weird ! I don't know how to get his attention. At one point, I look outside, through the window. I see the reflection of his face in the window and I understand: in fact, his eyes continually stare at the reflection he has of me in the window. Likewise, I then stare at the reflection of his face, hoping that it's not just an optical illusion. And there, he catches my eye and his image smiles at me. My image smiled at him in response. Then he turns his head towards me and looks at me directly but discreetly. He has the face of youth to whom everything smiles. After a while, I get up to go into the hallway, hoping he will do the same. I turn around but he doesn't move. I come back and sit in my place. I don't know how to make him understand to join me in the hallway. He looks at me surreptitiously, smiling at me. He is very handsome, I like him a lot. I give him a little sign with my eyes indicating the corridor then I get up again and leave the compartment. I can't help but think that our neighbors might see our ride and I feel a kind of stupid, unwarranted guilt. From the corridor, as he looks at me, I question him with my eyes. He finally gets up, goes out and stands next to me, both arms resting on the bar across the window. I'm so happy ! We begin to exchange a few words. I no longer remember our conversation precisely, I simply remembered that he lives in Paris, information that delights me, I live in the Parisian suburbs...! The very friendly conversation continues. We tell each other our first names, I guess he's available, we und ...

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