Subway Rides.

 

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She closes her eyes pushing back her tears. There’s nothing to cry about, she tries to comfort herself. Well, until a big fat bill lands on her doorstep or she falls on the ground again, she has nothing to worry about. And so, she opens up her lids and the white neon lights blind her for a second. She shifts her vision to the two passengers sitting on the opposite seats. A young handsome dark-skinned man and an old fair-skinned lady with a pair of grey-rimmed glasses that matches her hair. She shifts her eyes to the grey floor and wonders what material might it be made of, cursed by her architecture education.

She follows a drop of yellow-brown liquid finding its way through the vibrating floor of the subway car until her vision slowly blurs and she can see it no more. She feels hot streams of tears along the bones of her cheeks, announcing her failed effort of self-comfort.

Worried of grabbing attention of the surrounding commuters, she takes a quick glance around, fighting back her unstoppable tears to refine her vision and notice others’ facial expressions. Being on a New York train, she’s sure she would be unnoticed, yet alone grabbing serious attention.

She looks at the old lady who draws a warm smile and nods softly.

She moves her eyes to the young man. He stares back with a pair of warm brown eyes then reaches into his pocket and offers her a napkin.

She then knows her miserable day just got a little better.

(Photo Courtesy: Marwah Garib).