Beauty on the Orange Line

The subway squeels against the tracks. It shudders to a halt, throwing everyone against the bars for support. Each wears a mask of monotony. Each stares at the passing landscape like a flickering tv screen. The harsh light of the outside world blinds them to the river, the trees, the sky. The continuous click-clack, click-clack silences their thoughts. The doors slide open to dirty cement and gasoline-fumed air.

 

Dandelion seeds drift inside, around, and beyond: one wish for every passenger.

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