If you look down the length of the subway car, you can see through a window in the door into the next car, and so on down the line, a series of long rooms lit in yellow light filled with bored looking people sitting on opposite walls and standing holding shiny metal poles to keep from falling down.
I’m watching a woman in the next car read a book. She’s got short hair and is stylishly dressed, and I wonder what I would look like were she to look up and see me seeing her.
The train goes around a curve, and my line of sight down the cars bends away, leaving only my reflection in the window to swim from the shadows into view.
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