There are a variety of different routes Jane can take home from work. She often will decide on a route, then randomly change it after months of diligent love for said route, because of a last minuet realization that she had become familiar and bored with said route. Her sojourn home, was one of very few things that Jane was ever flighty about. That is to say, her emotions were rarely mercurial.
At this point in time, Jane fancied taking the A train home. She liked the route for many reasons. For one, it took some time, around an hour everyday. Jane could listen to at least one complete album on her commute, if not more. Also, when she arrived in the Broadway Junction station in the evening, the shitty stained glass windows cast the many travelers in kaleidoscopic light. Beams of color haloed heads and illuminated individual hairs at the peaks of those heads. She felt the colored light provided a gentle wash that made most everyone more attractive.
What she liked the most about taking the A train was the capacity filled during rush hour. When she stepped in the train, the panicked riders behind her often jammed her in. Jane steps lightly when she walks, so it takes very little effort to move her against her will. On one particular day she was bullied in like any other day. She stood with her hand straight up against the ceiling of the car, because there was no available pole to grab for stability. Her fingers went numb quickly. She was sandwiched between a hoard of pretty teenaged girls, cackling and smacking their gum and a man. Jane was afraid of teenagers, so she quickly turned her back to avoid confrontational eye contact. She found herself pressed tightly against the man’s back. The man was large. He had a strong build and stubble a plenty. He was clearly definable even from a distance as man. Jane allowed her body to jerk and sway with the train’s turns, sometimes exaggerating the movements, continually leaning against the man in front of her.
Jane looked at his satin Yankees jacket. It was worn; the seams were pulling apart from one another. The train lurched, and she stumbled closer. She let herself fall into him slightly more. Jane thought about what would happen if she were to lie her head on his shoulder and say “Take me home and be sweet to me, and don’t let your affections drift away too soon.” She thought better of it. “I could make you happy,” Jane thought.
When the train arrived at Broadway Junction, the man stepped out. Jane stepped out and followed behind him. She kept her distance and her eye on him until he faded into the crowd. Upon reaching the top of the stairs, a pigeon flew past Jane’s face, causing her hair to wrap around her eyes. Jane rode up the escalator, feeling inexplicably euphoric. She watched the people pass on the escalator next to her and achieved a small sense of vertigo. Jane saw all the faces in the multi-colored light and wanted very badly to say “Happy Birthday,” to all of them.