Peak hour.
Hundreds of commuters slowly push their way through the swarm, trying to claim a spot, any spot, to call their own. Waves of heat spread from body to body. Everyone is tired. All they desire is to head home to the warmth of their homes and snuggle into their beds. Bodies push up against each other like sardines. Strange how with so many people little sound is made. A lady sits within her claimed territory and looks dead straight ahead. Both our eyes meet, but quickly avert away. The next stop is reached. A balding, overweight man stumbles in. His grubby hands make way to grip a bar just above her. She wrinkles her nose slightly. It is his armpits. They suffocate her territory with a malodorous stench. There is no hope as she searches for any other vacancies to occupy. She silently accepts her fate for the rest of the ride home.
Until then.
xx
SHE SAYS SHE SAYS DONT YOU WANNA DO ME DO ME I JST WANA DO YOU DO YOU
ReplyDeleteAlso quite nice. The writing I mean, not the grubby guy and his biological hazard of a pair of pits :P
ReplyDeleteOnce again, letting your kindness and intelligence outstrip the clouds.
ReplyDeleteOur thoughts are mutual then :) Although, granted I don't really have much evidence to make my deductions, I have tended to find that the brightest stars are usually the easiest to see (corny I know, but hey, it fits).
ReplyDeleteBut I must continue to say THANK YOU for your kind words. It is my battered intention to some day make a somewhat lasting living by consistent scribblings.