Train from the Crypt

The 9:11 came at 9:17 today. Worked late last night; in late this morning. The "Danbury Hatter" was running late. Just like me. (No this is not a cute nickname for Dan --but thank you Dan, for driving me to the station some mornings.)

Not only was it late, but it was old. Resurrected against its will from some trainyard in Connecticut, it had no place trying to make the commute in from Westchester. It had morning breath, coffee-stained floors, wooden paneling and small sticky plastic seats made before the time men came in size XXL. No circulation. Plus, I'm pretty sure it was possessed.

No, really. It jerked us along, shifting ahead of the engineer's guidance and then suddenly we we'd be riding a slow coast. We were moving -- kind of. Ok, obviously that doesn't qualify as possessed, but then something else happened. Twice. As we crept through the Bronx (wasn't this the express?!) the loudspeakers came on; first blaring static...then music. No announcement from the conductor, just music. Shocked awake, I mentally ran through my jukebox of musical genres but couldn't place what I was hearing. Was that...40s big band? And then it was gone. A longer interlude minutes later -static, music, then nothing. We were stopped in the Bronx waiting for a train to pass. We were really going to be late now.

People stood up and moved toward the doors ready to exit. Hoping their movements would press us forward faster and eager to escape. And finally, 20 minutes later, we were freed at Gate 38 -- that's when I noticed the name on the side of the car. I also noticed a woman surrounded by 5 emergency workers at the front of the train. She had fallen, and her purse with new monthly commutation ticket didn't mind the gap either. She fell into a hole like Alice in Wonderland. Like the white rabbit in the story who was squashed by the Mad Hatter... Remember that? "Oh dear, Oh dear, now we shall all be late..."

I've got to catch the earlier train tomorrow.