Reflections on the Metro
But at five thirty, at L'Enfant Plaza, when people are going home from work in their button-downs and suits and briefcases and iPods and tired eyes, it's different. Holding on to the silver bar above my head, I feel like I'm standing over the woman in scrubs holding her iPhone; I'm right by the doors they say not to lean on; it's crowded. And now everyone is silent, as if by proximity others can tell what they're thinking, and it's all they can do not to reveal their personal stories to these people they probably will never see again. Their eyes stare into some unknown distance, they're back at work, they're already home. Who knows what those earbuds are saying to them? We clutch the metal bars and shift our weight like surfers on the waves of the Metro rails. It's like meditation, concentrating on the task of staying upright and reflecting on the small sample of humanity in this swiftly moving compartment.
They Are Millions
Congratulations on the DD! I really like this observation and love how you compared the morning Metro traffic to the evening one.
The line: Their eyes stare into some unknown distance, they're back at work, they're already home is perfection. Thank you.
I don't really have that much writing like this, I don't do it very often. But lots of people have liked this one so I might have to.