Morning Train

Yapper

Yapper (Photo credit: davitydave)

Hurry hurry, get out the door.  Walk fast.  Faster still.  Finally there.

Standing room only.  

Observing those around me, the crush of humanity embracing me uncomfortably.

Students seated, scribbling frantically in an effort to complete this morning what they did not finish last night.

Diversity at it’s best, women and men of every conceivable denomination.

Tightly grasping their books of worship, eyes closed, lips moving in silence.

Are they praying?

Attempting to achieve a state of zen perhaps?

Little ladies standing, leaning against a panel, eyes closed, asleep and remaining in their precarious position.

More students standing up, like me.  Many surfing their phones.  Most of them plugged into the music.  Like me.

Unlike me, their eyes fixed on the tiny screens.

Their bodies swaying to the rhythm of the train, not the music they hear.  Unlike me.

My body tightly wedged amongst solid beings, bopping to the music, foot tapping, head nodding in rhythm to the upbeat music I listen to in the morning.

Eyes constantly shifting from one face to another, glancing here and there and everywhere.

Sometimes straining to see out the windows fogged by the hot human breath of all trapped inside.

Catching a glimpse of the cityscape through a bit of unclouded window, seeing the steam rise from the river that separates the city.

At last!

The crowd carries me out the doors, and suddenly…

I’m free.

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