Crossing Roxbury Crossing

23 09 2011

I wake up an hour and a half after my alarm originally went off and it starts.  My heart is in my throat at the thought of riding on the crowded train. So many people, all breathing, in the tiny car. I can feel their breath, the stares, and hear their music. The stuttering clacking of the train silences the Miles Davis in my ear. My breath is starting to speed up, I count the stops, obsessing about the moment I can break free from the sour mix of b.o., perfume, and axe. One: Green. Four more people cram in. Two: Stonybrook. No one enters but we stand there, waiting, waiting, waiting….stupid orange line. Three: Jackson Square. Just one more stop, I take a deep breath and close my eyes. One. More. Stop. Four: Roxbury Crossing. The doors don’t open.

There’s a chiming in my ear and its 6am. My alarm is actually going off, I know this because I feel my throbbing feet and Eula, the cat, is purring trying to coax me out of bed to feed her. It seems as if sleep has escaped me. As if I laid down and got up only a minute later.

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