Please, could you proofread the fourth part of my short story:
For a few moments there was a fierce battle in my mind. Part of it wanted to write poetry while another part became obsessed with the women sitting so close to me that I could smell their perfumes wafting towards me. I wanted to prove to myself that I was a rational being in full control of my senses, but the other part would not leave me in peace. It ordered my eyes to turn towards the women and take a close look at them.
The one who sat by the widow had chestnut wavy hair and brown eyes. She must have been about twenty five years old. She did not wear make-up and the only jewellery I could see on her body was a pair of silvery stud earrings. She was listening to the music from her iPod or some similar modern gadget and was completely engrossed in reading of a glossy magazine on which cover I could discern the picture of Paris Hilton taken at some kind of a wild party.
The second one who sat close to the door had short unruly ginger hair which gave her the look as if she had just waken and did not have time to brush her hair. I guessed that she must have been the same age as the first one. She had her legs crossed and was holding both an A4 size notebook and a thick book on her tight.
Her eyes shifted from the page of the book to the notebook where she occasionally made notes. However, it was the third woman who became the centre of my interest. She was the most beautiful of all - natural blond with Grace Kelly look. Her long hair was pulled back in a pony tail and her angelic face without any trace of make-up. She was also older than the other two and probably must have been around twenty eight.
It was the book which she was reading that made me really curious. When I saw the cover with the title Jean Paul Sartre: Existentialism is a Humanism, my heart skipped a beat. Nowadays I seldom saw young people reading books and this was the first time I saw a young woman reading philosophy.
I wished to have a camera with me to immortalize this special moment when spiritual and physical world were interweaving with each other creating a new reality, more beautiful than anyone could have imagined.
I closed my eyes pretending to be asleep and the picture of the beauty with the book was still vivid in my mind. I imagined that we had arrived to the final destination and the passengers were leaving the train and pouring out into the street.
I was the last one to leave the compartment and before I was stepping into the corridor my eyes noticed the book, which the woman had just been reading. I was taking it with reverence as it had been a holy object and then I rushed outside trying to see her blond hair among hundreds of other hairs.
My eyes was darting left and right, I was jostling through the crowd and even receiving shouts and curses which I did not care at all, because I wanted to give back this book to her owner at any price. However, soon I had to give up, and when I in my desperation opened it, I saw on the first page her name and her telephone number, my happiness was overwhelming.
“How kind of you,” she answered in her lovely voice.
We met in a café and I gave her not only her book, but also a bouquet of roses and she took them with her slender fingers and kissed me on the cheek. We drank coffee, ate cakes and talked as if we had known each other for years.
I told her how she looked magnificent then, reading the book with the morning sun slanting through the window and falling on her blond hair. I saw her blue eyes sparkling and she took my hand and held it firmly between her hands and told me that nobody had ever talked so nice to her.
To be continued.