Beautiful Nightmares

Dumping the garbage on the way down, I head outside via the open courtyard behind the basement exit. The air on Bennett Ave. is fresh, calm, and strangely serene. For the nth time this week, I run into Ezra F. near my building. Walking slowly, and thinking of the song "Falling Slowly" (simply because it rhymes), I take my time getting to the station.

"Current events, everything that's going on in the world, right here in AM New York." The woman holds out a newspaper and shoves it close to my nose. It's a daily event now.

The train pulls into the station just as I reach the stairs leading down to the platform. From the top, I can see Sara R. though she doesn't see me. Trying to get as close to my spot as possible, I pass Josh and Malka S. I try to say hi, but they don't see me either. When the doors open, I board right behind Kara G.

The door we came through closes, and Kara leans on it, while I lean on the door directly across from her. The advantage of my side is that it will open at the next two stops, but not again before I get off. It's a bit of investment for a better ride.

Kara is wearing an elegant gray coat and has a matching plaid bag slung over her right shoulder. Her gloves are the kind with a flip-over mitt that can expose fingertips, a style that seems to have become very popular in light of text messaging and full keyboard phones.

Nearby I can hear "Sweet Dreams, or a Beautiful Nightmare" playing through someone else's very loud headphones. I wish I was still in bed, getting some dreaming of my own for a little bit longer. I am daydreaming, at least, alerted as such by a beautiful smile from a young woman in who's direction I must have been blindly staring at. Funny thing, to be daydreaming about night-dreaming.