The Commute

First, grab headphones if you're at work.

Second, push the play button below. 

Finally, read. 

(Editor's Note: You can still enjoy without the music, but it's not nearly the same experience. To truly get that rush, my writing needs a little musical assistance.)

The sunlight’s dancing. Eyes flicker. Wake up.

Routine, routine, get out of bed. Dizzy head. Not enough sleep. Too much sleep? Get dressed… We’re already late. We move like someone pushed "fast forward." Routine, routine, slowly reach for your bag. 

Remember… something? Oh well.

Forget. Forget your umbrella; your homework. ‘Least it’s sunny.

Bread or maybe fruit? Pick your poison, either way we’ve got to go.

More routine.

Lights off.

Bagged lunch.

Heels in purse.

Flats on feet. One last glance. You’re out the door.

30 steps downstairs, then 4 more out the front.

298 steps to the food cart on the corner. Yeah, the one past the Laundromat. White man says go so you go, go, go. Avoid the slow woman in front of you.

Sidestep, sidestep, squeeze by. 

Hurry up the street. Two minutes down Steinway’s all it takes.

That man’s talking to you. Different language. Smile’s creepy.

Ignore button.

Blasé face.

Stare ahead and he’s gone. There’s something sharp in your purse, but no, no. That’s only for the night! Daylight’s for smiles.

Or at least blank looks.

Is that coffee?

WATCH IT! Watch the sidewalk – you always trip there! Two flip flops down, may they rest in peace.

Oh yes sir, we’ll take that. Free sample from the cafe. 

Who could say no?

1,2,3 walk 1,2,3 walk. When did you start counting?

Blue sky.

Warm enough.

Mornings like this make you want to… WALK FASTER! There’s the TRAIN!! You’ll make it if you run.

Past the fish market.

Up the stairs.

Metro card already out.

Thadda girl – you were thinking!

Swipe. Step. Stairs come two at a time.

“Stand clear of the closing. doors…”

No! No! Not if we can help it. Lunge, and your in.

Good.

Breathe deep.
1 train down, 1 train to go. 

Squeeze by, and grab blessed metal. Hold tight. 13 minutes left.

Who’s baby’s crying? That woman’s purse bumped us twice.

Headphones today? iPod’s dead.

Stare straight ahead.

Last stop in Queens. Let’s all smash together now.

Rumble, rumble in the tunnel.

59^th and Lexington! Out out out…Excuse me and pardon us.

Rush across the platform. It’s not crowded yet! The train’s coming. But walking on the edge get’s you through faster.

5 more steps till safety.

1,2,3,4,5…whoosh.

There’s the other train. We just made it to the center of the platform. That’s our rush for the day. Oh but wait,

DUCK! 

Man with a large box almost got ya.

It’s okay. Hair’s still in place.

Up the escalator. The left side’s for walking. And of course no one’s walking. MOVE. Don’t you hear the connecting train? Left side for walking, right side for standing…

Blast. 

We missed it. Blame it on the uninformed escalator takers. LEFT is for walking. LEFT IS FOR WALKING. 

Breathe.

Headphones?

No, wait… iPod’s dead.

Bright lights, shuffled feet… next connecting train's coming.

They all pile out.

We all pile in.

Be at work soon.

Doors open and we move. Walk faster! You’ll miss the crowd.

Excuse us! Sidestep sidestep, squeeze by. Through the gate, up the stairs.

Sunlight on your face again – breathe in the day. Take in the city…

Okay, stop breathing.

Keep walking.

Two blocks to go.

You see it? I see it!

Chaos. Foot traffic’s bad today. Bumper to bumper; hip to hip.

Whatever.

 Sidestep… just walk on the grate. Hold down your skirt.

Pull out your ID. Where’s our ID?
We're still on fast forward. 

Orange hand says stop.

White man says go.

Go. Go…

You’re finally there.

You made it. 

The Commute