I see the tracks flit past me
He’s standing across from me, messenger bag slung off his shoulder
Shirt like yellowed wallpaper that’s been left in the sun for too long
My foot adjusts to the sudden movement of switching tracks
I catch his eye by accident, gazes bouncing off each other like twin poles
I shift farther from him, he shifts closer
The optimal position to block my access to the door
His eyes dart around like a caged animal
Looking for an opportunity to escape, relentless foot tapping an orchestra in the cabin
An arm goes up, check the wrist, arm goes down again
Three times that happens

There’s nothing he can do at the moment while still in the moving train
Nothing to make time go faster
Nothing to make the cosmos spin in a different direction
Nothing an ant can do against a tsunami
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.

We pull in, his hand going straight for the button on his right
We’re not alone anymore
The whole cabin is vibrating in anticipation for the finish
We’re still moving
He pushes it
He pushes it again
and again
And one more time for good measure

We’re still moving

An exasperated sigh from the depths of his eternal soul and mutters that lay hidden under his
breath
Perhaps enchantments for patience?
We finally stop
He pushes the button (again)
The doors remain closed
I push the button and they slide right open

And even after all that show, I’m still off the train before him