V-07: The Transit Observation
The L-train screeched to a halt at 14th Street, a blast of hot, metallic air rushing into the carriage, carrying with it the scent of ozone and old grease. I stood by the doors, clutching a damp newspaper, watching the crowd of commuters—each of them a closed book, a secret history written in the slump of their shoulders and the vacancy of their stares. Across from me, a man and a woman were...
0 Σχόλια 0 Μοιράστηκε 3 Views 0 Προεπισκόπηση