The static voice of a woman rings out above everyone else warning them that the next stop is coming up soon and that everyone, not that they need be reminded, should remember to take their belongings.
The late sun warming my face and the elongated window above my head was open ajar and wafting in the smell of the rapidly passing sea.
Out the corner of my eye I could see an attractive man stretching his legs fully into the empty seat opposite and crossing them at the ankle. His head was tilted back in relaxed bliss and he was mouthing along to the music blasting from his headphones. Judging by the badge around his neck he was a nurse that worked at a local hospital, yet his lycra shorts and top would say otherwise.
I turned back to my window and the scene had changed completely. The grass was long and fluffy like rolling green waves and the trees were vibrant and bright. There were acres upon acres of green fields.
That's what tends to happen to one on a train, look away for a few minutes and you'll miss everything.
Lots of great stuff in here. I really like how you're looking to describe things in less obvious fashion, finding adjectival phrases that aren't cliched. When you come to longer pieces, keep an eye on those frustrating repeated sounds that can creep in and disrupt the flow of your writing like a speed bump - here it's reminded and remember. Not sure the use of 'one' at the end quite comes off, but these are all minor things. You have a lovely control to your language here and a crisp turn of phrase.
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