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Metro shorts - 5

Writer's picture: AmrutaAmruta

I’m only two metro stops away from my home, but it’s cold and I’m feeling lazy to walk the distance. I descend the stairs at a run, and when I reach the turnstiles I see a man, unwashed, pacing up and down on the other side. He’s swaying, and my suspicions are confirmed when I see the opened glass of red bottle hanging by his hand. He’s muttering to himself, inebriated.

I stop. I look at him out of the corner of my eye, hoping to God he doesn’t lift his head to look back at me. Phew. I take a moment to evaluate the situation – is he dangerous? I try to reason it out in my mind, I try to be calm, but there is no logic for decisions like this. My gut instinct tells me to go across, and so I do, at a brisk pace, keeping a safe distance from the drunk.


On the other side, I break into a run. My eyes scour the walls frantically for the signs leading me to my platform, and I follow them, still running. I turn a blind corner and almost run into a man who is walking up from the other side. I jump up with a start, and then try to make amends for passing my fear onto him in one apologetic glance. He doesn’t seem to care.


I get to the platform. 6 minutes to the next train. (Ugh) The only other people on the platform are a pair of girls, similar-looking, chubby, with long wavy hair and red lips. They’re pacing up and down the platform, sometimes they even climb up to the stairs to the exit only to come back again, as if undecided as to whether they will take the metro at all. Diagonally across on the opposite platform, a man is yelling and throwing something at another man on my side. A lone man in a business suit is looking at the goings-on with an air of resignation. I’m confused.


4 minutes. A ragtag bunch of teenagers, boys and girls, probably heading out for the night, walk in. Behind them, two men holding wine bottles come in, yelling incomprehensibly. I recognize one of them as the man I saw near the turnstiles, he has the same black winter cap with ear flaps, the same crazed look.


2 minutes to the train. I gravitate towards the teenagers, and behind me the two chubby girls follow, as we try to seek strength in numbers. I switch the music off so I can be alert to my environment. Did he see me run from him? Will he try and speak to me? I wonder, as the two men inch towards us. I heave a sigh of relief as they walk past me, stopping in front of the youngsters to make a passing comment on one of the girls. The youngsters start giggling, and I look at them and at him, the fear still in my eyes.


The train speeds in, right on time. I jump in.

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