Monday, January 12, 2009

Heading Home.

I stood on the Metro platform next to a young man in an ill-fitting suit. His hair was cut into an off-centered bowl shape. He fidgeted nervously with his red tie.

As the train pulled up to a stop his face lit up and he waved to someone already on board. We both walked on together and he hugged a young woman standing near the door. He said hello to her and I turned away to grab the rail as the train left our stop.

The train was over-crowded with rush hour commuters in dark heavy coats and hats. I stood uncomfortably close to an older woman wearing too much perfume. She tried to read from a small worn bible while standing in the middle of the aisle, her book swaying lightly with the movement of the train.

By the time we started to slow down for L'Enfant Plaza, just one stop away, I looked over to see the young woman with tears streaming down her face. The guy was still smiling and talking to her but she stood there impassive, crying silently.

As the doors opened she hurried out to the crowded platform and the guy smiled and waved as she disappeared into the mass of people. The older woman found a seat and continued on with her bible. I grabbed back onto the railing and stared out the window into the darkness of the tunnel.

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