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The train doors open with a cushiony hiss
already in sitting position, a young woman
hurls herself through the opening into the seat opposite.

The unexpected violence of this event attracts the seeing eyes of other passengers who still in semi sleep,
dread the inevitable final stop and trudge to work.

Head bent down
chin welded on chest
eyes on floor
black rubber can be hypnotic
I know
it has held my gaze more than once before

she has not validated a ticket yet, and all eyes project expectant curiosity

she sits this funny creature
like a ball of scrunched up paper
stringy hair hangs like old tired curtains
that stops the prying eyes from seeing the pasty pained face
that lives behind

and still she sits hunched and unmoving
while we wait rows of eyes daring her to move

Another stop
a cushiony hiss
people ease in
people ease out
and we are distracted for awhile
and have to remind ourselves to check back
to see if the girl is still there
she is
but this time wearing dark glasses

classy move!
I'm impressed at her wiliness

quite suddenly
and you would have missed it if you had taken that moment to look at the
schoolboys antics at the front of the carriage
two lightening quick strides
a blurred airbourne figure
and the young woman is back in her seat before she is noticed
ticket validated and stuffed in pocket

clever move!
Iam most impressed
this girl knows her stuff!

another station
and its express now till the final stop
the train picks up speed jolting pleasantly
fixed stares begin to wander around for more interesting subjects

The girl with her ordeal behind her
waits sitting slumped
arms thrown tightly around herself
straight jacket style
waiting for her last escape

the train keeps moving
my eyes remain on the girl
waiting waiting

slowly
the grip eases
and the discomfit begins to thaw
and flow
her face
her posture and her arms
soften

soothed in comfortable arms
the girl is soft and pliable
and drifts into hazy sleep

you see
she has no resistence
this troubled and tortured soul
housed in self made armour

she's no match for
the bouncing repetitve train with its
"kadoonk kadoon"
its like a mother that cusses and fusses
over the troubled child

I should know
its destroyed my defences
and soothed my wounds
more than once before

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