SUNday maybe?
It’s nearly 9:00 am and the sky is overcast. I had not slept the previous night. I get on the train and daydream until I realize that I am going the wrong way. The alcohol and clove consumed during the night are still with me. I am not sleepy but nauseous and I feel the weight of my mind slipping.
I get on the correct train. Someone behind me is playing their CD player very loudly. The sound is pure and it is a vocabulary that I cannot distinguish. I decide that I will turn around so that I might glimpse into the face of this person. I am on the left side of the train facing North. To look behind me I must glance over my right shoulder. As I do the only person in my limited line of sight comes into view. She is wearing all white and she has a very bright shade of lipstick on. She is an older, pale woman with light colored hair and heavy rimmed glasses. Her mouth is closed. I turn back around.
A few seconds later I hear the singing again and must know of its origins. In what must have been an obvious gesture I slump down in my seat and peer over the top. I can just see the bright form of her mouth changing shape in it’s vocal prayer. She is looking back at me and I turn back around. A couple stops pass and the seats closest to me fill up. An older woman sits to the right of me. She has her head wrapped in a white cotton (possibly linen) cloth that stops a little past her shoulders. She is carrying a copy of the bible. Though her grandchildren were not handicapped they were sitting in the handicapped seats before me. This put them in profile. These two children were so well fed and plump that the smooth surface of their honey colored skin stretched and dimpled around the bones of their large frames. Their huge, ebony colored eyes reflected more light than I have ever seen. These eyes were playing all over the surfaces of the train, exploring ever corner. I watch them as they glance into the faces of strangers and out of the windows. At their very young age (the oldest was 3) these children were unusually content and poised. They sit perfectly straight with their hands in their lap. I wait for the child closest to me to look over. I smirk at her and maintain eye contact. About 7 seconds pass. In a quick, hushed voice her grandmother says, “Don’t stare at her!” I tell the grandmother that those were the biggest, healthiest children that I had ever seen. She responds with something that I cannot remember. The older, female child had jet black hair fixed with yellow and white, hard plastic barrettes that read, “I love Jesus.”
I get closer to my destination and have to wait a while. I sit on a very large, long stone bench. A lady approaches, she has a dark complexion and wavy, chocolate hued hair with thick strands of white around the hairline, mostly at her temples. Age has turned her eyes that grayish muted color that I have often seen. The whites of her eyes are interrupted by brown spots that encircle the iris. She asks me if I think that it’s ok to sit as she looks down at the stone bench. Her garments are of an airy, white fabric.
-“Is there anything on it?”
In this moment I am feeling charming so I sweep my hand across the surface and show her my palm.
-“Ummm… you should be ok.”
She sits really close to me. I notice a large, rogue colored makeup stain near the nape of her neck. Though I am wearing very short shorts, a fitted black t shirt, and tennis shoes I am still asked if I am going to church. In this moment I lie by telling her that I might attend church next Sunday. I didn’t feel like having a conversation about this, also more church goers have taken a seat to the other side of me. She goes on to talk about Jesus, Lord, God and I nod and agree because I do not completely disagree. In between her talking I begin to reflect on the last 30 minutes or so and I think I hear the woman next to me say Carla to whomever it was she was talking to on her cell phone.
I am awakened from another daydream. I refocus on my environment. I start to consider the conversation of the party next to me. The girl is now off her cell phone, and she is talking to someone who is standing in front of us. She speaks of this girl Karla a couple more times and a few other things that I did not associate with myself.
I get on the correct train. Someone behind me is playing their CD player very loudly. The sound is pure and it is a vocabulary that I cannot distinguish. I decide that I will turn around so that I might glimpse into the face of this person. I am on the left side of the train facing North. To look behind me I must glance over my right shoulder. As I do the only person in my limited line of sight comes into view. She is wearing all white and she has a very bright shade of lipstick on. She is an older, pale woman with light colored hair and heavy rimmed glasses. Her mouth is closed. I turn back around.
A few seconds later I hear the singing again and must know of its origins. In what must have been an obvious gesture I slump down in my seat and peer over the top. I can just see the bright form of her mouth changing shape in it’s vocal prayer. She is looking back at me and I turn back around. A couple stops pass and the seats closest to me fill up. An older woman sits to the right of me. She has her head wrapped in a white cotton (possibly linen) cloth that stops a little past her shoulders. She is carrying a copy of the bible. Though her grandchildren were not handicapped they were sitting in the handicapped seats before me. This put them in profile. These two children were so well fed and plump that the smooth surface of their honey colored skin stretched and dimpled around the bones of their large frames. Their huge, ebony colored eyes reflected more light than I have ever seen. These eyes were playing all over the surfaces of the train, exploring ever corner. I watch them as they glance into the faces of strangers and out of the windows. At their very young age (the oldest was 3) these children were unusually content and poised. They sit perfectly straight with their hands in their lap. I wait for the child closest to me to look over. I smirk at her and maintain eye contact. About 7 seconds pass. In a quick, hushed voice her grandmother says, “Don’t stare at her!” I tell the grandmother that those were the biggest, healthiest children that I had ever seen. She responds with something that I cannot remember. The older, female child had jet black hair fixed with yellow and white, hard plastic barrettes that read, “I love Jesus.”
I get closer to my destination and have to wait a while. I sit on a very large, long stone bench. A lady approaches, she has a dark complexion and wavy, chocolate hued hair with thick strands of white around the hairline, mostly at her temples. Age has turned her eyes that grayish muted color that I have often seen. The whites of her eyes are interrupted by brown spots that encircle the iris. She asks me if I think that it’s ok to sit as she looks down at the stone bench. Her garments are of an airy, white fabric.
-“Is there anything on it?”
In this moment I am feeling charming so I sweep my hand across the surface and show her my palm.
-“Ummm… you should be ok.”
She sits really close to me. I notice a large, rogue colored makeup stain near the nape of her neck. Though I am wearing very short shorts, a fitted black t shirt, and tennis shoes I am still asked if I am going to church. In this moment I lie by telling her that I might attend church next Sunday. I didn’t feel like having a conversation about this, also more church goers have taken a seat to the other side of me. She goes on to talk about Jesus, Lord, God and I nod and agree because I do not completely disagree. In between her talking I begin to reflect on the last 30 minutes or so and I think I hear the woman next to me say Carla to whomever it was she was talking to on her cell phone.
I am awakened from another daydream. I refocus on my environment. I start to consider the conversation of the party next to me. The girl is now off her cell phone, and she is talking to someone who is standing in front of us. She speaks of this girl Karla a couple more times and a few other things that I did not associate with myself.