This is going to be a new life for you. You’re going to have to buckle down and shape up! No more getting drunk with your friends and stumbling in at 3am anymore. You’re going to have to find a decent job, too. This is some mess you’ve gotten yourself into.
The sun’s light jolted Wilson Thomas back to awareness, as if he had snapped his hand back from a hot stove, expecting to feel the burning consequence of his carelessness as soon as his brain could process it. He had only been resting his eyes for a few minutes when the Patco train emerged from the Jersey side tunnel onto the Ben Franklin, joining the herd of commuters making their way into the city. He opened his eyes wide and took in the vast urban sprawl that presented itself before him, contemplating his insignificance in comparison to the beehive of city life he would be submerged in.
He had been heading westbound on the speedline since the Collingswood stop, not particularly caring where he would get off. Eighth and Market was the first stop over the bridge and Sixteenth and Locust was the last. He considered getting off at whatever stop the cute, shy looking girl a few seats up on the right was getting off at. Once you’re over the bridge any stop can give you a taste of the city, and he didn‘t really have any real reason to be there anyway. He just needed a change of scenery and a chance to experience the anonymity of the city. On a busy street in Philadelphia, nobody matters. they don’t have to. They are all just trying to get to their destinations unbothered, not giving a shit what the person in front of them is doing -- unless it happens to be walking too slow. The only people that approach a stranger on those streets are usually asking for change or a cigarette, and most likely mildly insane to top it off.
The cute girl was sitting sideways in her seat most of the ride, with her left leg stretched straight out on the seat next to her, and her back resting against the side of the train. She was jotting in a notebook diligently, diverting her eyes from the page for a few seconds at a time to glance around the train and adjust her headphones before returning to her work. She seemed so caught up in her little notebook that he imagined she probably didn’t notice him admiring her from only fifteen feet away. He studied the side of that gorgeous head for five minutes straight before he realized that any other passenger watching him probably thought he was a creep.
Wilson was now sitting fully erect in his seat, gazing out the window he had been resting his head against a few moments ago. The only thing he thought about was the fact that as soon as he stepped off that train he would be free. He didn’t even wonder where he was staying that night. The Philadelphia skyline dazzled him just enough to allow him to momentarily forget that his last $350 wouldn’t get him far.
What would you do if it’s yours? I’m just asking. I’ve been late before. It’s probably just stress.
