Tuesday, December 15, 2015

Two on a Subway Platform

The subway train pulled into the station, and in the middle of the afterwork rush hour, the varied masses made their exits.

Amidst the blur of coats, the buzz of conversation and the music of footsteps, one coupled pair, a man and woman, made their way onto the platform. Judging by the Snow White caps of hair and faces gently lined with the ghosts of expressions past and present, it seemed safe to deduce that they were older citizens of society.

She had exited first, purposefully walking a few steps, her eyes scouting out both ends of the platform.

He followed just enough to clear the train car's doorway, and then stood off to the side, carrying a rather large, cumbersome looking package-- its dimensions and shape reminiscent of the massive portraits usually seen renting wall space in various museums.

Once it appeared she had her bearings, she doubled back to him, circling upstage around the aforementioned package and briefly laid her right hand on his left shoulder.

Communicating in gestures with an ease that could only be borne out of concentrated familiarity, they readjusted the package so that each now bore its weight. The effect gave an almost shield-like purpose to the object as she held onto the inside of the upstage end, and he manned the inside of the downstage.

Then together, as together as can be with one ahead of the other, they slowly inched up the stairs, presumably, to other adventures, undoubtedly, looking forward to the leg of their journey where their package reached its destination.