23 Monday Jan 2017
Posted in Commute
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We really did ask for this.
Rain. And more rain.
Because there had been fires in the summer previously, we asked for rain.
Now mudslides.
And winds that could knock you down while walking while holding your coffee while trying to tighten the knot under your parka.
And fog.
And foggy windshield.
And slush down the Cajon Pass.
And of course, slow traffic.
And a two minute-late Metrolink train.
And me arriving ten seconds later – running.
06 Monday Oct 2014
Posted in Commute, Daily Prompt, Metrolink
Tags
You’ve seen me.
Everyday.
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!”
