She smiled, he nodded. She sat and he walked off at 7th avenue. Lost in a memory he sits and his head hits the window behind him. She puts on dark sunglasses and watches as the train rolls on pass Carrol Street.

A young kid walks on, Mets backpack on contrasting with his Yankee shirt.

Man with a straw hat walks on, serious demeanor on his face as if he has never smiled.

Hippie lady looks at her phone, too long hair, a brown suede jacket with fringes falling upon the top of her bottom.

Young brunette is standing and putting on her graduation gown, shakes with the train and smiles at the older man who wishes her luck.

The future, the past, contradictions and lives filled with compromises.

Older lady with her hair dyed dark, talking to a ghost in front of her. “just a little more time?”
She stands up as if in fear, stares at her invisible companion and takes several steps backwards.

Blonde lady, rastafarian lady, Starbucks embracing smiling lady and a young kid engrossed by something on his phone.

I look around, I imagine and I project emotions and memories onto the lives of these strangers who I will quite possibly see again but never utter a word or acknowledge each other’s existence.

Are we real? Or are we simply advertisements on the side of this highway towards our city of Oz?

That lady is still talking and gesturing to her companion who still has yet to reveal itself. Starbucks lady sits across from me and smiles. She is prettier than I thought, I guess beauty reveals itself when we look closely and stop projecting our own insecurities.
A man wearing a shirt and a tie, his collar away too tight. I don’t want to go, I don’t want to go.
It’s my stop, gotta go.