Archive for June 16th, 2013

His Sunday suit fit him well.  It looked as if he’d always been a petite man, not because the suit appeared old but because he moved so fluidly as he has likely done for the past forty years.  When he sat down and crossed his legs it was done as though it were an emotional response.


And it was when he crossed his legs that his black Champion All-Stars – a not-so-unexpected contrast, became visible.  While perhaps the same age as the beloved Chicago character known as Ferris Bueller would be today, he had that same mischievous look about him.


Behind him sat a woman with skin of porcelain and precise posture.  From a part in the center, her hair fell equally straight on both sides.  She reminded me of the generic customer service representative inside of any Finnish institution.  Stoic.  Unflinching.  Emotionless.  Her duty is to be present.


Nearest me sat an Indian man in a yellow polo shirt.  With his earphones attached, he was having telephone conversation and held the mic directly at his lips.  Had had a dab of shaving cream remaining at the back of his neck.


At Belmont a tall young man boarded the train.  His dirty blonde hair tussled atop his face which was still prone to acne.  It looked as if he had slept in the red t-shirt he was wearing.   His khaki cargo shorts were held up with a belt of the same color.  He carried with him a book from the library, which he opened and continued reading once seated.


When we entered the tunnel and began our decent under the city, the stoic woman moved her sunglasses from atop her head to over her eyes despite the fact that we were now moving underground and in the absence of sunlight.  The man in the suit had shut his eyes.


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