She
couldn’t help but think how rude he was. He stood with his back to the door, in his
fluoro yellow construction worker vest, oblivious to the commuters attempting to board the train - walking around him. Commuters like him got her really angry. The inconsiderate nature of some passengers, ranging from those with their loud ‘popular’ music to those who tell the world their problems as the person speaks to the recipient on the other side of the phone call. There were litterbugs, rowdy teenage students and then this man, the ignorant and arrogant ‘space consumers’
The hiss of the hydraulics and the metals clang and bash against each other as the train struggles to stretch towards its final destination. She found her seat, brooding over the now ruined morning.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The atmosphere of trains have always excited my senses. The idea that hundreds of thousands of people have been in the very same carriage as I stand in, sends tingles from my finger tips to my toes. Each carriage with its distinct and very own history. The various smells from spilt liquids to strong perfumes, burn images in my head of the life this train has lived, experiencing both the most horrible events such as muggings and
urinations and the beauties of perfumes and couple chatter. I stand here in my
fluoro vest, as the clang of the metals echo in my mind, complaining of their arduous monotonous voyage - trudging the routine course. It sighs in obligation as the hydraulics do what they are made to do. The chatter of the commuters echo throughout the carriage. I learn many interesting facts about people as I overhear conversations. The most interesting ones are those who speak loudly, even though the two people are right next to each other. I sometimes speculate about their motives but it only leaves me with a headache of questions, and many questions I have.
Occasionally, I hear gossip of disabilities. It never really angers me but it fascinates me. “Should we help the man?” I heard a lady mutter, “he looks so sad.” - my sorrow arises from their pity. If I knew how to look happy I would, but
wouldn’t that make me look crazy? “Why does he stare like that?” another would whisper and my only answer is ‘what else am I meant to look at?’. I concentrate my heightened senses on the aromas of the train to prevent the alienation of the general public from pervading my mind. Commuters already look down on me. Humans never seem to understand that I am able to function and work normally like any other person. However, the trains are not discriminative. They let anyone alight the train, no matter size, race or ability. Anyone can board this vessel of life, and it is this unprejudiced nature that I love. I am most comfortable being engulfed in the surroundings of the trains.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He stood there motionless. She had been watching him from a distance throughout her routinely train ride. She
couldn’t help but pity him. Thoughts of how such a person could get into such a state rushed through her head, crowding her already congested mind. His
fluoro vest stained an image in her mind, protruding out like a black sheep amongst white. She
couldn’t help but feel sympathy for him. She
didn’t know why, but she felt sorry for him.
As her train ride was about to end, her curiosity overpowered her common senses. She
leapt from her seat and moved towards the man. She noticed people watching him. No one stood near him, even though the train was so congested. As she moved closer, she pitied him more. She stood on the outskirts of his radial forbidden space, taking a peek at this unfriendly yet sorrowful fellow. His cheeks drooped, the bags under his eyes presented the notion that he had not slept properly in years and his hair concealed his eyes, as if hiding a deep dark secret. Swaying with the train’s motion she pretended to stare outside, only to get a glance at this mysterious man. ‘He
doesn’t look particularly happy, but not unhealthy’ she thought, she
didn’t understand the situation at all. ‘It
doesn’t matter, I won’t see this man after today once I get off the train. My station is here.’ The man’s head lifted as the train jolted to stop at the station. One word described her emotions. Shocked.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My eyes have been hollowed out since I was young. I haven’t involved myself in a decent conversation in years. No one will reciprocate. I have my cane stick and I wait for a guide dog, but they say I can’t look after the dog because I am alone. Alone. Funny word. The more I repeat it in my head the more the hollow feeling in my chest grows. My station should be here about now. As much as I don’t want to leave the trains, I must see the people in charge of the dogs. I must show them that I am capable of looking after a dog. I don’t want to be lonely any longer. I am tired.
He sensed tension, as he drew out his cane searching for the exit of the train. He tends to ignore this feeling but today was a different day. “You must be able to interact with the dog and people” the criteria echoed in his mind, pushing him to confront the tension. “Hello?” he whispered. A little louder, he spoke “Hello? Is something wrong?” Not knowing who he was speaking to he knew it was a lost cause.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He spoke. She knew he was speaking to her, and replies flooded through her mind. The flood became a knot like an abandoned set of strings clumped together. As the doors opened, he moved as if he had said nothing at all, walking outwards. Realising the gap between the platform and the train was further than normal, she had no choice. About to take the step off the train, she grabbed his armed and spoke calm but firmly. “I apologise but I was afraid you were about to fall into the gap, please follow me.” Feeling a little more human she spoke to him softly, introducing herself.
