Subway at Night

Its late, its quiet, and I sit alone on the subway platform bench. I wish for the bustle and quick arrival of the trains I hated this morning.

A woman with white shoes sits in the furthest seat from me on the same bench. I can't see any more than her shoe, her crossed leg moving up and down. I hear a wrapper crinkle. She must be sucking a hard candy.

Three trains come in rapid succession now: an uptown local across the tracks, an express zooming through the center track, a beeping local running fast, too fast, but I still think it will stop. The lady and I rise from the bench and walk quickly down the platform. The train's horn sounds like a laughs as it sails past.

Now I see the lady in the white shoes and she is surprisingly young.