The subway doors closed with a hiss, shutting out the hubbub of the platform. Ian leaned against the corner of the car, the strap of his briefcase digging into his shoulder, making it ache slightly.
The car was crowded, yet surprisingly quiet. People kept their heads down, their souls absorbed by their glowing screens. Ian instinctively reached into his pocket; his fingertips brushed against the cool edge of his phone, but he suddenly stopped.
He decided not to take it out today.
The train sped through the tunnel, and outside the window, darkness blurred into streaks as it rushed past. Ian looked up, his gaze falling on the window across from him. The glass reflected his somewhat weary face, the silhouettes of a young couple cuddling behind him, and, further away, a middle-aged man facing the reflection as he adjusted his tie.
He watched the man and suddenly felt as if he were watching a silent film.
Usually at this time of day, his mind was filled with unanswered emails, the 3:00 p.m. meeting, and what groceries to buy that evening. But right now, it was as if those thoughts had been put on pause. He listened to the “clang” of the wheels rolling over the tracks, as regular as some ancient pendulum.
He noticed the handrails along the ceiling of the car swaying slightly, like a row of silent swings.
For a moment, he forgot where he was going—and even who he was. He was simply a breath inside this tin box, rising and falling with the train.
“Next stop, Central Park.”
The announcement rang out, and Ian snapped back to reality. He instinctively pulled out his phone; the screen lit up, and a dozen unread messages flooded in, like a school of startled fish.
He looked at the red numbers and suddenly felt they weren’t all that important after all.
The doors opened, and the crowd surged forward. Ian followed the crowd out of the platform and onto the escalator. He glanced back; the train was slowly pulling away, carrying with it that section of the metal car that, just moments ago, had been filled with his “emptiness.”
He took a deep breath of the slightly cool air outside and stuffed his phone back into his pocket without unlocking it.
Maybe it would be full again tomorrow, but at least those three minutes just now had been his own.
