Treasures On The Train

People sit cradling things.

Purses. Backpacks. Briefcases. Shopping bags.

Crunched together like sardines, occupying as little space as possible, people hold on to their belongings as if they are treasures.

The man with the angry red scar on his forearm is in his own world.

A woman’s earring glistens like a dewdrop, reflecting the light from the cold fluorescent lighting above.

Another woman with chipped red nail polish, shoes undone, fiddles with her bags, annoying the people seated on either side of her.

Two people, seated across from each other, talk across the aisle. People pretend they’re not listening. But they are.

And then, the discarded treasures. Scattered on the floors are the leftovers and discards of things consumed, no longer of interest: a lottery ticket torn in half, a dog-eared newspaper, a sandwich wrapper that once held someone’s lunch…the remains of a day, once treasures on the train.

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  • I love your little glimpses of the infamous subway ride. I’m so very much not a public transportation person so being on anything resembling a train or subway makes me turn inside out so basically I don’t see or hear or pay attention to anything going on! At least when I read your stories I see what I’m missing 🙂

    • I’m sure the subway experiences are quite different in different cities, but I know I’ll always be the one observing and creating little stories in my mind 🙂

  • I’ve never ridden in a subway and I’ve never boarded a train. But I’ve been a bus passenger. Does that count? 😉
    Love the way you describe life’s experiences, Kaarina.

    • Thanks so much @melanie_kissell:disqus, and so great to see you here 🙂 And yes…that counts 😉 Hope all is well. Appreciate you popping by and commenting.