Link to Parts I and II
Link to Part III
Glimpses of a Man: Part IV
Alone in a crowd of people-
The doors opened slowly and the huddled group pushed its way through the widening hole, a concentrated mass expanding only upon release. A man, probably 35 flows against traffic, tilts sideways and shoulders his way onto the train. His suit, turned to armor. His briefcase, a shield perhaps. He pushes his way through the exiting crowd and clips a young woman across the mouth. She rubs her chin and rotates her jaw as she exits with the rest of the pack. The man sits, restless. His thumbs twitch on his khaki covered knee caps, as he glances at the doors, pouching his lips as he sees people only beginning to enter the train- such an obvious fear that he may not make it to his home of monotony by 6:30, dinner time.
An older man, black, 65-ish, canes his way through the doors as they begin to close. He brushes, hesitantly by me, as I grasp the top third of the center pole. I shift my weight to allow him to pass unencumbered. He sits slowly, his legs barely bending, leaning pendulously- repetitiously, forward and backward until, completion. He rests his chin on the handle of his cane and smiles, staring through the floor, with deep breaths.
The train is silent as it begins to move, except for the intermittent scraping of metal rails. A middle aged couple shares the pole with me, as a curly haired child sleeps in the stroller at their side. They stare at each other, stuck in some vexing stage of love, where they’re able to restrain themselves from touching or talking while the train is in motion. I feel their warmth from the other side of the steel pole that separates us. I close my eyes and let it envelope me. I wonder if they can feel the same from me- they probably attribute it to each other.
“Ici,” the woman whispers, as the train comes to a stop. They release the pole in unison and start toward the closed doors, taking their warmth with them. I peak through partially closed lids as they squeeze through the doors and expand.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
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