Original subtitles

Thanks, Vicki.

How are you?

Dear Red Shoes, People say that a long trip is the best way to forget an old

love and find a new one.

Trains.

Have you ever really thought about trains?

I do.

I think about them.

No, I dream about trains all the time, especially when I'm sad.

Always have.

Ever since I was a little girl and my mother used to take me to visit my

grandmother on the train, I'd sit there listening to the sounds of the wheels

clattering along the tracks, look out the window and just let my mind drift.

Later on my way to and from college, I'd always take the train.

It was a way of relaxing, letting go, of forgetting,

of remembering.

And when I'm on the train and when I fantasize, for some reason I always see

myself in black and white or sepia.

Like in old movies.

I don't know.

Just seems more elegant that way.

More sophisticated.

Like Betty Davis or Joan Crawford.

Gives me confidence.

Separates me from my hang -ups and my problems.

And I open up.

And talk.

And sometimes I even talk to strangers.

I want to be possessive, but that's completely ridiculous because I knew

was married even when I pursued him.

It was like being thirsty or hungry. My body reacted.

I just began talking to him, this perfect stranger, about things I'd never

the courage to talk to anyone else about.

What are you staring at?

Your smile.

It was the first thing I noticed about you when I saw you.

Was your smile.

You had such a beautiful smile.

You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd think that you were trying to seduce

me.

I like your smile.

And I'm enjoying your company.

And...

I guess I've always had this fantasy of picking up a woman on a train and

seducing her.

Your table is ready, sir.

Thanks.

Would you like to have dinner with me?

Do you know what I dream about?

I dream about a man who wouldn't play games with me.

Telling me how wonderful my smile is.

You know, I bet you noticed my ass before you noticed my smile.

Really? You underestimate yourself.

I never look at a man's ass.

Oh, sure you do.

Come on.

No, I don't.

I look at his eyes first.

And then I look at his hands.

And I listen to what he says.

Because I need to know exactly what I'm going to be touched with.

So what do you want?

I want a man I can talk to.

I want a man I can trust.

And I want a man who can excite me.

What about sex?

When a good bet is like losing yourself, being lost, found.

Like getting so high above everything else that you don't ever want to come

down.

Okay, then.

The perfect seduction.

Tell me about it.

Do you want to be taken from behind?

Or do you want a man to go down on you?

Do you fantasize about being with another woman?

Huh?

Do you want to make love in bed with your clothes on or with your clothes

On the kitchen floor?

Blindfolded?

Or tied down?

On top or on bottom?

Do you want to be made love too tenderly or savagely?

And be in control or just lose control?

I want to be transported.

And I want the man I'm with to be there when I wake up in the morning.

What about you?

What do you want from a woman?

I want a woman that I can trust.

And I want a woman I can talk to.

More than anything, I want a woman because I...

Ask me to dance?

Nobody else is dancing.

Please?

Would you dance with me?

I like your hand on my back.

Move it.

If you really want to know what I fantasize about the most, it's telling a

exactly how to make love to me.

Where to touch me, when, or how long.

So you want to be in control.

Well, leave it until I lose myself.

I want it both ways.

In control and out of control.

But most of the time, my insecurities inhibit me.

When

you close

your eyes, what do you see?

You see a man and a woman, and they're dancing together.

Looks like it could be you and I.

And they're pressed very close together.

I see his mouth on.

It's now your turn.

I see a woman standing in front of a candle.

She's staring at him.

And the more she stares at him, the more he hungers for her.

They begin dancing.

And then, almost imperceptibly,

so slowly, she begins to move her hips back and

forth.

Unable to control herself, she gets aroused.

He knows it can burn him.

I'm unable to resist.

Feel like I'm about to lose control.

To give so much to someone that you don't even know.

To give so much to a complete stranger.

Wow.

He asked to see me again.

And I said yes.

Come on in.

The place is beautiful.

Thank you.

Same taste of music.

Picture this.

A Major D sets a man down across from a woman on a train.

And it just may turn out that they're meant for each other.

What are the chances of that?

You were probably just as frightened as I was that what happened on that train

between us.

It was just a dream.

And that neither one of us could ever live up to each other's expectations.

There's a man standing in front of a window in a new suit.

And a woman asks him to take his jacket off.

All last week, you were all I could think about.

And I thought, why?

Why can't real life be as exciting as your fantasies?

And I imagined you there in that same window.

And I imagined you taking off your shirt and undoing the buttons of your

pants.

I loved seeing him again.

He dreamed of meeting someone on a train.

So did I.

And I'm sure he found me in black and white with B .B .A.

This dress is so sweet.

This dress is so sweet.

Realize through him.

Smile.

Hold apart the dancers.

Words.

Hide true of glances.

Thy.

So many more of those tenses.

This dress is on its way.

This dress is on its way.

Who's gonna give us the one -way ticket to the island?

Who's gonna get the road to hell?

Same dream.

What are the chances of that, Red Shoes?

Fantasy turns to reality, to fantasy, to reality over and over again until the

lines between them blur and they find out they really do like each other and

trust each other and maybe even love each other.

What do you think, Red Shoes?

Not bad for a chance meeting, wouldn't you say?

Yeah. See you.