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You’ve seen me.


With hair wet – no time to blow dry it. I wear jeans and a shirt, sometimes a blouse and always carrying a cardigan or jacket. You’d possibly even recognise me with my yellow coat on. Sometimes with sneakers or boots, rarely on heels. For I have to run. Catch the train that runs, most of the time, on time.

See me sleep. See me with a blank look on my face looking outside the train window. See me anxious when the train is delayed. Hear me scream when a cockroach sits next to me. See me annoyed when someone plays their music out too loud – in the quiet car. See me panting when I just got into the train. See me sweat. See me queue in line for the only working bathroom in a six-car train! See me get squished in a jam-packed, super delayed train. Perhaps you were with me then too.

See me with white earphones on, listening to perhaps music, or watching a movie on Netflix, or typing away on my phone or maybe reading a book or magazine or a blog or perhaps sleeping. Possibly even seen people tap me on the shoulders letting me know we’ve arrived at our destination – Los Angeles Union Station. You’ve most probably seen me get on and off at different stations as well — in Fontana, Rancho Cucamonga, or even Montclair, or worse Rialto. See me get in the Express, 5:45PM train or even the 9:30PM train.

You’ve laughed seeing me with short hair, long hair, curly hair, fizzy hair, slim, fat — even pregnant! At one point, even wondered why I have a ‘black eye’. Wondered how the heck did I get one (or two!). You’ve seen my short self carrying a small bag, big bag, LOADS of wrapped gifts, especially around Christmastime. You’ve witnessed sheriffs come ask me for an ID when I seem to have forgotten my ticket but eventually been let go.

We all have stories to tell. Perhaps animated, possibly even more tales of woe. But until then, I am just occupying a soulless space for I am another stressed zombie waiting in the platform, riding the train — just like you.

Until one day, one of us says, “Hello!”