Friday, October 29, 2010

Morning rush

Some days aren't worth waking up. This was unfortunately one of them.
Soaked from the pouring down rain she managed to squeeze into a crowded morning train just to hear the announcement that this particular and fastest service is cancelled and they all need to change to another, local. People were rushing out to get on even smaller train that would be stopping at every stop possible before arriving at the city center.
'Not my day', - she said to herself indifferently stating the fact. There were no surprises at what was happening. Just another rainy, sunny, snowy etc. day in a big city with few promises of reliable transport. 
Another day of been late for work, another reason to apologize to the already irritable boss for the faults of not her own. Despite all the best efforts reality has chosen to test her patience one more time. 
Smashed inside the coach, barely able to stand, balancing on the shaky floors of carving train she dreamt of warmer, sunnier and friendlier place with much fewer people, buildings, cars and less wasted time. So precious time, not enough for sleep, rest or life itself. Endless hours on trains that seem to run in circles. Morning - to work, evening - from work, again and again, in monotonous unchangeable pace. 
Every time her train arrived at the new stop, more and more people were pushing into a seemingly packed to the fullest coach and somehow magically managed to stay there. If only like in a fairy tale it could stretch and accommodate all wishing to be inside, rushing to work, escaping from merciless rain that seemed to be enjoying the chaos it was bringing upon everyone.
The heat from the sheer number of people, too tight proximity were becoming less and less bearable. As if awaken from the bad dream she started to get worried. It was just few small, cold pangs at first, uncomfortable but surely manageable. In a while they slowly and steadily grew into a primal fear. Small stream was getting bigger and stronger like the rushing behind the window water. She closed her eyes every time a new portion of passengers was getting ready to storm her little coach that shook and cried in sad squeaks - 'Enough, or please enough'. And swaying with the rhythm she was begging an invisible Being about the same thing - 'Please take another train, please. It will come, soon. Please don't come in anymore.' It didn't help. People kept coming. Until she couldn't stand it anymore. All the fear she was trying to contain broke lose in a panicky feeling of preserving her life, her sanity, herself. 
She desperately fought for the way out through the quiet wall of unmoving zombilike morning travelers, elbowed her way out as if it was her last chance, like a drowning would save his last breath to get to the shore, safety. People looked at her attempts without any curiosity or sympathy, with a little human left in their  blank and ignorant eyes.
 One more step - and she was out on a little station platform hungrily breathing the fresh air, oblivious to the pouring down on her rain, being simply happy to be free. 
All the worries in the world could wait until later. 

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