NYC Monday Morning

They have the shell-shocked, thousand-yard, dead-eyed stare of war survivors, but it’s really just NYC on a Monday morning. They stare vacantly at the opposite wall and he has his hand on her thigh. After a few minutes she regains some awareness and starts aimlessly looking around the train.

Chipper Giant

When he initially got on the train he stood next to me and even with my shoulders back, standing as tall as I could, the top of my head barely made it to the middle of is bicep. As soon as the seat behind us opened up he all but flung himself into it and…

Instruments of Survival

She brushes on her smile with her foundation. One hand holding her compact and mirror, the other working the smile deep into the contours of her face, cementing it in for the rest of the day. As the morning rushes by her outside the train she paints her eyes open and shades them from ill…

Reminder

He is reading a book my grandfather gave me. A book I never finished in time to return it before he died. A book I never got to discuss with him. He is wearing a cap that newspaper boys wear in quaint “historical” movies that make me think of my sister and I playing dress…

Gravity

Her face looks pained and sorrowful. Her brows pinched together in pain or concentration. Her straightened red hair is partially tucked behind her ears, the rest of it hanging over them to mostly hide them from view. She has white ear buds in and her mouth is down-turned. Every part over her face seems to…

An Artist

Her jeans are caked in paint, the left knee ripped open, the bottom cuffs frayed from use. She has a black pea coat on and has a fabric Trader Joe’s bag and a teal leather purse sitting in her lap as she texts on her phone. Her shoes were once black, her right one faded…

Gone to Seed

She reminds me of a high powered woman who works in my building, if she had gone to seed. She is wearing turquoise satin pants and has a backpack with technicolor cats on it. Her hair is poofy and her bangs fall into her face while the rest is pulled back into a high bun….

Sleeping and Pouting

He looks like he is sleeping and pouting, not reading on his tablet which I can clearly see him fiddling with, flipping through articles of the Economist. Head tilted down to look at the screen, his eyes lowered to read, he appears asleep, but his lips slightly pushed out giving him a resting pout face….

Not Quite Motorcyclist

He looks like a motorcyclist except for his blinged out chrome gold sneakers and the furry scarf that tucks down into his well-fitted black-leather jacket. His form-fitting black jeans are soft and worn in, with three seams at the knees and a checkered pattern between the knees and his front pockets. He doesn’t have much…

Two bags

Two bags between his feet. One is very full, straining a little at the seams. It is olive green with a supple, warm auburn leather on the bottom and black fabric for handles. The second bag is less full and black. His shoes are dark brown leather with little holes for ventilation. His dark blue…

Caught

I caught her staring at me staring at another woman. She has a brown leather satchel between her wide-spread feet. Black combat boots and black pantyhose that are close to ripping. Short black skirt, a black cardigan draped over her lap, a book on top of that. She is reading it, underlining in pen as…

Arts and Crafts Time

It is arts and crafts time on the train. She sits on a seat in the middle of the train with a small bag full of wire strands and green tape. She rips off a decent sized piece of tape and wraps it around the wire quickly, efficiently, and neatly. When she finishes a strand…