Bit sized portions

I’m on the train. It’s hot, stifling, and my top bares mark of thin lines of sweat. The day is digested in bit sized portions, events are mixed and matched in a seemingly random order. It’s one of those days, when I bare my emotions on the sleeve. There’s anger, hurt, frustrations…very little else really. Self contempt, yes absolutely. I catch a glimpse of myself in a reflecting train window. I automatically pull in my stomach and straighten myself a little, in an immediate response to the distorted image. I don’t like what I see, but at the same time I feel indifferent. Perhaps this is the onset of a downhill slope to middle age. Perhaps my peak has already been, and I will now wither away, shrivel until I become a dried immortelle, an ever lasting flower, devoid of both its fragrance and beauty.

I’m hit by an oppressive heat as I board the train. I look for a place, but everyone has a bag or a jacket placed next to them. I continue walking down the isle until I find a semi-free spot. The woman next to it, picks up the magazine that lays on the vacant space. I nod and smile. Inside of me, I feel relieved. Relieved to be left alone, in a corner without much notice. And so I perfectly blend in…

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