on the platform

There’s no train, and there’s no train. Everyone paces in small circles, or rocks back and forth on their feet. They lean out past the edge to check for lights, it’s like a Busby Berkeley number, bodies fanning in sequence. There’s a young woman dressed not like a secretary, but how she imagines a secretary would dress. It’s a little too fanciful, her shoes are dainty and the headband holding back her dark hair is almost a tiara. A skinny man swings a book by his side, his fingers marking his distracted place.

People are still pacing and checking their watches. Ten minutes go by. A few more. Then suddenly we are in it together. The skinny man steps close and asks me if I heard any announcements. He thinks it might be better to give up and walk to the next station. I ask him what he’s reading, he says it’s dry but useful, and reads the title aloud to me in a mocking voice. Then he rocks forward to check the tracks again.

Behind us, a bald man in dorky sneakers asks the girl where she got her tiara.

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3 Responses to “on the platform”


  1. 1 Mike March 1, 2009 at 5:45 am

    Just passing by.Btw, you website have great content!

    _________________________________
    Making Money $150 An Hour

  2. 2 Fred Scharmen March 1, 2009 at 12:43 pm

    Agreed. Great Content.

    Do you write this stuff down onsite, or just take memory photos?

  3. 3 Kio March 1, 2009 at 3:50 pm

    Fred, little of both. Also sometimes I write them in my head and memorize.


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