Sunday, January 4, 2015


“So tell me a story, please…”
“It might not be good but here it goes...”

The alarm clock goes off

I roll over and reach for it


I pick myself up off the floor

Rubbing my head

Then I manage to turn the damn alarm off

I go to the kitchen

The drying rack is full

I scramble some eggs and pour a glass of orange juice and toast a bagel

I put cream cheese on it

While the eggs cool I put the dishes away

My roommate puts his dishes in the sink
(the ones he'll never clean anyway)

I clean all the dishes regardless of if I'll get to the train on time...

I get ready, comb my hair, get my keys, train pass and headphones and I'm out the door by 9:40...

I hastily walk, the morning cold is crisp

Cars rush by and the music through my ear-buds is soothing...

I get to the train station, climb the steps, there's broken glass and a cross that reads, "he was a
good dog"

I wait for the train just behind a pole that blocks the sun from my eyes

A loud noise approaches quickly

The Amtrak train flies by at 80 mph

I don't flinch

Most would

However days and weeks and months have hardened me to the potential danger a train at that speed could do

In the deep distance, lights appear

The train slowly approaches and the people step closer to the platform

It arrives, we get on


Another Amtrak train slightly disturbs the Septa we're boarding

We move on, my eyes are closed...
*breathe in, breathe out, do I have my keys, where's my pass, breathe in, breathe out, is my back pack
zipped up?*

I'm at my stop, my eyes open and I walk off...

Immediately I see a bum sprawled on his back, sleeping or dead, I never know, and I just press on to catch the bus

I see it to the left, at the light, I know if I don't run I'll miss it

I sprint towards the stop

I barely made it

I swipe my pass and – breathe

A few minutes into the ride and the bus stops

Not for a passenger but an ambulance

It's double parked and blocking the route

We don't care

We wanna get to our destination

God forbid someone dies and their ambulance blocks our route

What business do people have dying nowadays anyway?

The ambulance moves and we're on our way

I see one bridge

Two bridges

I see the third...

And there’s Luzerne Street, and I pull the chord

A bell rings and "stop requested" the placard says

I mosey towards the rear door, holding my balance

I get off

I go under the bridge and look back

There's someone behind me

I don't know who they are

I hold onto a pen in my pocket

A blue one

Made of recycled plastic

I hold tight

My pen is my sword...

The man disappears behind the cross traffic, and I become calm

Across the tracks I get to a coffee shop

I walk in, get a cup

I pay

The bum outside didn't ask for change, but I gave him a dollar anyway

No response

He's probably better off dead anyway

I walk across the street

Safely I make it across the four lane Highway

I cross paths with a man with shallow eyes who stares me down

He knows I don't belong there

I continue on

I get to work

And I go towards the break room

I sit

I breathe

I sip and...

Begin my day…