As I rode the escalator up to the platform, I focused on her boots.
She was talking to herself, and I heard her say: “It’s all an illusion. It’s not happening right now.”
I looked up from her boots to see that she wasn’t talking on her phone. She wasn’t talking to anyone. She was simply talking aloud.
“None of it’s real. Not these steps. Not this station. None of it.”
I raised my eyes from her boots to watch her tilting her head slowly from side to side, as if studying the non-reality she was talking about.
“But it doesn’t matter. None of it matters.”
I wanted so much to see her face, to look into her eyes, to be in her world for a moment. But the chance passed as she stepped from the escalator onto the platform and like a wisp caught in the wind, she was gone.
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