Commuting

by Compound Fracture
originally published at 10:10PM on Thursday, November 01, 2007

Some kid hogging the whole seat. There’d be room enough for three. Antisocial. Boy or girl? Who knows. Separated themselves from society with layers of armor. Music blasting, dirty hoodie and loose jeans to conceal whatever contours lie beneath. Greasy hair scraped forward just in case a stray draft tries to reveal a glimpse of skin.

Old man. Wheezing. Snake coils leading from his face to an oxygen tank. Desperate for breath. Desperate for a smoke. Looking at hoodie-kid with disgust. Or is that disbelief? Kids weren’t like that in his day.

Screaming kids. A whole pride of them. And there’s the mom. Old before her time. Maybe time to try a different brand of condoms? Funny, though. Tired, for sure, but there’s some definite happiness behind those puffy eyes.

Seat found. Next to a shadow. Nameless person. Never seen before, never seen again. Man and wife walking this way. Trying to hold hands but it’s tough in the narrow isle. The woman looks at me for just a little too long.

I wonder what she was thinking.

Prequels

Sequels

Comments

  • from Pisces Girl:

    good job. Can you take a look at mine?

  • from White Hat:

    Noir narrator?

    The “kid hogging the seat” would be a great cover for a dedermized Terminator…