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.