Riding the rails
Plopped on a dirtied orange vinyl slab, the world stuttering by outside the window, I have recently contemplated destinationless travel. I could spend the day on the spindles inside the beltway. North, South, East, West. The Metro could take me. The evenly spaced mouths opening and closing to gulp in and spit out another crush of passengers could become my only distraction on this pointless journey. Flowing like drain water, I'd spend part of the day underground in the roots of the city. I'd occasionally emerge into the sunshine to the click-clack of train on track. Back and forth, to and fro, up and down, red, green, yellow, blue, orange. Neither here nor there, my day would be spent everywhere and nowhere. Please stand clear. The doors are closing.