FanStory.com - Subway Connectionsby Morris Dweck
Excellent
Not yet exceptional. When the exceptional rating is reached this is highlighted
The mind and interactions of the author on the subway
Subway Connections by Morris Dweck
Nonfiction Writing Contest contest entry

“Bing, bong. Stand clear of the closing doors, please.” One more person squirms his way onto the packed train. I immediately know that his name is Basanos. He has a satisfied look, proud that he made it. Quickly, that look devolves from satisfied to fearful. A shirtless man with a stinging odor presses against him. Basanos, dressed in a suit, is on the verge of being late for his big pitch to investors to buy a stake in his watch company. I am no psychic, just someone with a wild imagination and a knack for noticing seemingly insignificant details that help reveal a person’s story. He has a Starbucks drink with the name “Basanos” scribbled across it, and his watch has the same name written on its oversized face; I conclude that it must be his company. Basanos glances at his watch, but the arms are unmoving – stuck in time. I give Basanos a little wave goodbye as I leave the train. For some inexplicable reason, I’ll miss him. I often have this feeling when I separate from the lives of those I encounter on the subway.

At the end of the day, I’m back on the subway. I read my book as a group of three men with jarringly loud music enter the train. Suddenly, a kicking foot grazes the pages of The Catcher in the Rye in my hands, narrowly missing my nose. I look up in initial anger but instead become thoroughly impressed by their performance. Hats and bodies flip in the air. Feet dance synchronized to the beat. We make eye contact, and they approach me with fist bumps. I ask them, “Are those flips hard to learn?” They respond somewhat sarcastically, “You wanna try?” I shrug my shoulders and, in an instant, find myself attempting a flip, spinning in the air while gripping the subway poles. 

Upside-down, my mind and body freeze in time. I think back to Basanos’s frozen watch, now understanding the metaphysics of the train – it's a separate, timeless universe containing the worlds of others. I run around these worlds, not as a means to a destination but as destinations in themselves.
The train suddenly brakes, and my body slides face-first across the dirty subway floor. I pop up and look back at the guys. They burst out in laughter. I also laugh, making a generous assumption that they are laughing with me, not at me. 

I sink into an open seat and eventually doze off. The subway announcer mumbles that it is the last stop on the train, my stop. I get up to exit, but notice a man asleep. A push notification goes off on his phone in Spanish. I gently tap him on the shoulder, and tell him, “Es la última parada, mi amigo,” letting him know it’s the last stop. He gives me a downward nod with a droopy-eyed smile: the moment, small and fleeting yet sincere.

There is something about that forty-minute commute on the 6 train. The cacophony of the train’s sounds and rhythms ironically soothes me, not because of the effect it has on my ringing ears, but because it is a constant reminder of the array of experiences and people that I find there. I am tempted to unravel each individual’s narrative on the train as though they are rich characters in a novel. With the adventures of Holden Caulfield in my hand, I consider that I might be his equally observant, curious, and spontaneous counterpart, only less cynical and jaded.

I wonder what others make of me when they observe my overstuffed backpack. My long, messy hair. My pensive eyes. Do they see my churning brain? My adventurous spirit? I wonder if they have the desire to step into my world as I do into theirs.

 

     

© Copyright 2025. Morris Dweck All rights reserved.
Morris Dweck has granted FanStory.com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.




Be sure to go online at FanStory.com to comment on this.
© 2000-2025. FanStory.com, Inc. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Statement