Strands

There’s another train “6 minutes away” which leaves us plenty of time to escape, don’t you think? Or we could stay put and try to think of something worse than stuffing ourselves onto an L train during rush hour but I don’t think we’ll get very far. Time will dissolve regardless of our decision making so maybe it’s best if we stay put and get going. I take a deep breath and dive into a sea of warm strangers while my limbs disappear and all I can think about is how I’d never choose to be this closely sandwiched to this large man’s shoulder. 5 more stops can feel like a lifetime if you let it. I use the minutes to replay moments I’ve been holding storing if we’re being optimistic, repressing if we’re being honest. Like the dream I keep having where I run into you in my least favorite bookstore with food in my teeth. Perhaps best described as few tiny nightmares at once. Sheryl Crow plays softly in the background and I can’t tell or remember which song but hearing her as ambient noise sort of helps ease my stress at first. Except I inevitably begin to associate her with this experience which sort of ruins whichever song is playing, at least for the indefinite future. I desperately try to floss my teeth but there’s no time and now I’m just standing in between towering shelves of new fiction and staff picks praying I can say hello through a closed mouth half smile.