The doors open, and we enter. There are three tones, the first and the last are the same; the second is a third higher than the first and the last. We look up the compartments for an open seat or two, maybe even three. There are no open seats. There are no places to stand, we push a little bit into the the crowd inside. People push from behind, people push from the front. The doors close, we depart. We look again up the compartments towards the front of the train, this time a bit longer than before. We look again back down the compartments to the back of the train, maybe a bit shorter than before. There are the same amount of people as before. The train picks up speed and leaves the station. We look at each other, our mouths move faintly and our eyes register the movements of our mouths, our brains sort out the meaning of these things and the wheels click faster over the tracks, down the line, towards the next station.
Behind us there are three people, two men and one woman. They are huddled in on each other, the closeness strangers share in a public place, sharing a bit of warmth all rolled up tight in black down bundles, hats tugged down deep, scarves wrapped high, zippers pulled as far as they will go. Tiny bits of white skin, nervous twitching brown eyes, softly scanning blue eyes. In front of us are two youths, sullen and silent behind wispy beards and mistrusting eyes. Dirty fingernails and baggy pants. They may very well not even be there but they are there, watching like mice from the inside of tunnel. Their boots scratch on the salty-wet gravel covered floor.
We enter a tunnel, our pupils dilate. The lights flicker on, our pupils contract and then we leave the tunnel. Sunlight streams into the compartment from the right side. We turn like plants, we bend and we grow and we stretch to see this rarity. We push and pull and find ourselves crammed against the glass panel of the door. I watch your pupils contract even more, I watch your breath flicker and condense, and evaporate again, a small sign of life on a dirty pane of plexiglass halfway between two stations. I watch your eyes, almost completely blue. We are all staring, searching, reaching off far to the right.
The usual chatter has grown muffled. I can no longer hear the woman next to me discussing renovations to her apartment, and this heated debate between an old man and his daughter pertaining to the rising price of coffee has all but dropped off. Even you and I, we are silent. We don't talk about the rent; we don't discuss our plans for the balcony garden in the springtime. The train slows but we are nowhere near a station, there is no announcement explaining the short delay and the passengers do not complain about how it can be possible to delay an already delayed train. We do not grimace at each other, no further snide remarks were exchanged.
Where is this going? Where are we going? I play out a scene in my head: all of us, all hundred or so passengers gazing silently and contentedly out the window. We gaze. Our eyes follow the minute movement of the sun. Those who sit, remain seated. Those who stand, remain standing. We follow the slow and steady traveling star across the sky; we are plants and we only need the shining energy absorbed through thick down jackets and heavy hats and fluffy scarves.
This is ridiculous, I think, interrupted by an angry buzzing as of bees, or of an old car with fender damage. We are not silent, we are not satisfied by the sudden arrival of a star that has seemingly abandoned us this whole time. There are vague grunts of displeasure off to my right, there are outright expressions of outrage from my rear. We are enraged. We expected a service here! You can't treat us like that! We are disappointed, we are betrayed. How could you do such a thing? For we are only human and as humans only expect what we deserve. The last thing we deserved was such an act of atrocity- You left us alone between stations, you allowed us to scratch in the dark for two weeks. We were powerless all this time- we were trapped animals and the temperature dropped. Our blood thickened and our fucking heads got dull, yeah? We couldn't even think the whole time you were gone! Jesus, what were you thinking treating us like that?
There is a barely apologetic announcement, the train lurches to a start, the voices die down again. I repeat the same thing over and over until we arrive at the next station. Where was the sun this morning?
The doors open, there are three tones, and we exit.
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