Another Way Home

I am happy leaving work almost on time on an unusually sunny afternoon.

I will be home in a half hour, so G. starts dinner. But at 23rd Street, the train stops in the station. Stops and stays. Debris on the tracks at Rector; this train is not going to South Ferry. You can transfer at Chambers, the conductor promises. But he can't say when we will be moving again. Sorry for the inconvenience, he says. But he doesn't sound sorry, he sounds annoyed.

I listen to my French for Beginners podcast and I am content for awhile.

A young man dressed in jeans and t-shirt is visible agitated, standing in the open doorway trying to make eye contact with the conductor. Stepping back into the car, pacing, stepping out again.

The car is almost empty now and I reluctantly get off the train in search of another way home.