Thursday, January 20, 2011

Morning Commute, Sights and Sounds of

Sleep cycle's still shot to shit. I was lagged for two days when they sent us to Vancouver last year, but this is something else. Was awake till something like 2. Pretty sure I spent a half hour with my forehead planted on the keyboard. Neck's still sore.

Three cups of tar by now, one with lunch. I haven't been drinking this much coffee since, what, first year? Back then it was a large black for breakfast, medium black for lunch, large black for dinner. Bad times. Bad year, worse winter.


The meet with Maya was good. Least I'm not the only with the jitters. Wish I could hide it as well as her, though. I'm no good at deflecting with witty insults. She didn't bring the book...and her friend, that shifty ratfaced goon....I'll have to write about that later. Too much to write for a lunch hour post.


Last thing, though: this morning, on the subway - guy seemed pretty out of it, like he'd caught the tail end of a bad bender. Dress combo styled up hair, fractured glasses, suited up like a banker but hobo shoes. And that grin. He wasn't just asleep, he seemed KO'd cold. But such a peaceful smile on his face. Serene, even. I know it's winter, and I know windchill's like -16/17 again, but I felt so much colder. Arctic ice over my hand, over that burn scar dead space.

Not as unnerving in hindsight, I guess. I mean, everything about him was, whatevs. Maybe it's just 'cause it was the morning commute. Same sight on a 1am train and I'm pretty sure I woulda just ignored him.


I wasn't the only one who noticed. Morning commutes are exercises in pretending to read books and akwardly ignoring everyone else, but after I saw his grin, I flinched and I looked away - and there was this couple watching him too. Girl and a guy, both girl, arab looking guy, university age, a little younger than me if I had to guess. The guy was scribbling something on this little notepad in his palm, all thoughtful-like. She looked back at me, Black eyes, kohl rimmed. I blinked, I think. She didn't, so I looked away. They got off at the next stop.

She was wearing bangles, glass bangles. Red, shimmering. He had an earring. Left ear. Black. Don't remember what they were wearing exactly, but I remember this. I don't understand why.


Ah, fuck this overthinking. Have ten minutes maybe until lunch is done. Enough time for a quick smoke. I'd rather not have the other office drones see me smoke, but the caffeine's kicking at my head and my hands feel jittery. I need a cooldown.

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