The distant roar of trains running to and from the city was reverberating through the tunnels.  I was stuck detangling my headphones with one hand for the sixth time today while walking down the track. The hot, musty smell of the underground mixed with waste and garbage was smacking me with every step.  Given a moment, it would go away, like the tangles in these headphones.

I looked down and spotted the familiar groove of a yellow tile.  It was my groove to go to this groove every day. Even though there are many yellow tiles like this one, this was the groove I always used to have the doors open right in front of me so I could get a seat.  This car was also the one that stopped right in front of the stairs that lead to the street. It also has an added perk of being empty at this station. The downside of my groove was how far away it was from the entrance.  

I placed my work bag on the floor between my legs.  The 6:29 PM train would not be here for a good five minutes. While the bus may have been late, or on time to be late, I was still on time to be early for work. I put my headphones on and put on music I knew would make me feel like the fate of the world depended on me making a train in this isolated place.  It was like I was a different person, doing different things when music was added.

When thoughts of work and how much work I need to do aren’t on my mind, I can get lost looking down the tunnel trains disappear through.  The brief glimpse and shine of a train going somewhere else can quickly catch my eye. I can watch the trains dance in and out. They all have a place to be much like the people seated within.  The ear-piercing sound of the wheels mechanically moving in synchronization easily blends in with my music, fading much like the disgusting smell of the subway itself.

Movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention.  A slender nimble figure was prancing across the tracks looking for anything resembling nutrition.  Some stations have raccoons. This one has rats. These tiny creatures somehow find a way to survive in here.  What’s more concerning is how clean they look when they’re associated with garbage and dirt.

Eventually, the sound of my train picked up in the distance.  I picked up my bag and focused on the orange text that was visible throughout the track, from end to end.  I know from memory that it’s saying the train is approaching, but I can’t read the letters from this far.   The train pulled in, right on beat, the doors opened in front of me.  My corner seat was empty and beckoning me with open arms.  I sat down and took out my phone to look at whatever first caught my attention as the doors began to close.

The loud voice overhead fell into a cycle of repetition.  The hands of someone reached between the closing doors holding them open.  The doors flew open once more. In the moment of reprise, the person walked in, huffing.  They settled in a seat on the other end of the cart. I hid a small smile. The sense of victory when running for a train and making it doesn’t compare to anything at the time of.

Outside the window, I can see a figure walking down the track out the window.  It’s a face I’ve seen before. It’s the face of anger and annoyance. The why didn’t you wait for me face everyone wears.  The face of disappointment, that quickly settles into acceptance.  The face that instead of focusing on the train in front of it, changes to focus on the train that would behind it. It’s the same face I’m sure I wear whenever I miss the train that I take every day.  Missing any train would deeply disturb my groove, and it would show.

The train pulled out of the station with no more interruptions.  It accelerated until it hit a familiar, comfortable speed. The heaviness of my eyes was suddenly far more noticeable than it had been before.  It was just like when I had forced myself out of my bed. I closed my phone’s screen and secured it before leaning my head against the wall. A little nap would be fine.  In the past, I’ve done this. When I first started out I would either have issues falling asleep or I would end up missing my stop. But, this is my groove, and I will end up waking up right before my stop.

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