I am on the light rail. I am traveling to my downtown office from the Medical Center.
The trip will take eighteen minutes.
The rail cars are grey and sad and although they are not yet old, they look old. A long, dull seat runs along each side of the train, so that when there are other riders on board (which is rarely), I am able to stare at the person across from me with impunity. In my head, I write a story about each person I see.
Most of the stories involve what the person sitting across from me will do when the train crashes.