i got stuck on the 1 train today. but not because of train traffic ahead of me. i got stuck to someone. well, my scarf did. it got caught, quite perfectly, on a teeny tiny hook of a stranger’s teeny tiny zipper. now i care a lot for this scarf, so i couldn’t just yank it. i did what i had to do. carefully, for what seemed like a painfully long time, i took back my scarf from the backpack.( have you ever jumped in the lap of a stranger and started threading a needle with lots of people watching? i imagine it would feel something like this.)
i wasn’t having the kind of day where people would hold the doors for me so it didn’t surprise me when no one did. (jerks.) and when you can’t get off a train– even with the 30 second grace period that NEVER happens — and when no one around you attempts to help, you gotta face it: you were meant to ride a little longer. calmness hovers over me in those moments because I kind of always know that it must be happening for a reason.
after talking with my lovely writer friend, KR, i am challenged by her charge to write more fiction. so of course i’m thinking that if fog in a spin class can be a story, so can a scarf that leads a person on adventures…or even saves her.
what if someone got stuck on a train and went all sorts of places she never intended? places she’d never choose to go… who would she meet? what would she see? what would she be saved from?