Strangers On a Train

I love the NYC Subways. I haven't given much thought to it until these past few months.

Sometimes on days, I'll just hop on and spend a few hours in one. Entertainment is never scarce. But recently and particularly, I enjoy playing this new sort of game I find myself enticed by. I named it "strangers on a train." Oddly enough a few months later in english class, I found myself watching a movie with the same title.

It's a sort of thirty minute fun that fills me up with a brief rush of happiness, curiosity, paranoia and silliness. It happens coincidently. I position myself as usual at the end of the long bench, in a near empty cart, before the train heads to Manhattan. I turn on my music and wait patiently. Within a few stops- plop, you sit across from me. Thirty minutes is all we have to tell our stories with our expressions. I steal a quick glance, I look down pretending I don't see you stealing a glance, as well. I sway my head to my music, you tap your feet to yours. You take out a book, I nod or tilt my head in disapproval. I bite my lip, you run your hands through your hair. We move our bodies, we understand, we feel- all without saying a word. We know nothing about each other and yet within half an hour, we become silent companions.

It's your stop.

He gets up and gives me a warm smile. I wave.

Goodbye Stranger.

I waited so long.

Just a train, a platform, the rain and something that wasn't in my imigination. I walk back and forth, pace on the exact same spot I imagined it all happen. My heart beats, my legs shake and my eyes freeze.

I laugh now, but I still dream.

Don't ever get too excited or expect anything.

Walking through the smell of grass and the creaking shacks, reminds me of home. Wonder if my father had done the same, felt the same thirty years ago. We think and feel too alike to ever get along. We read each other too well, to live in the alternate world that we created to hide from each other. I'll never understand.

I found equilibrium


In these petty crimson colored clouds.

Oh, how I am a walking paradox.

I feel little again.

A circle.