Irene (who I do not know)

The sketchbook is still chained to me and heavy as it is I'd forgotten how much I enjoy drawing folks at the train station and on said trains.  I'm sure my fellow passengers don't enjoy me peeping between the seats at them and looking away hurriedly in that 'oh what is that? A window?' fashion as they turn my way.  As I'm sure Irene, captured below, would not thank me for the wrinkles I managed to capture before she eluded me.

or the surly man below.

It's early days yet, I'm sure they'll improve if I don't get punched.