METRO (9)
Another train drives into the station, stops, and leaves again. Fina can feel the draft lift the hem of her coat and tousle her hair; it stirs up the scent of the deep conditioner she had worked into it last night, stirs up last night’s hopes and nerves, and now Fina is staring at a glossy white wall trying not to cry as another throng of people brushes past her towards the exit, up into the daylight, towards their jobs and routines.
And that is what Fina needs to do as well. There may be no class to rush to today, but there is no reason to be down in the metro any longer, now that she has all but fled the woman for whom she had gotten up early, on her day off. Fina straightens her shoulders and takes a deep breath. It still comes out a little shaky, but she makes herself walk back up the platform, to where the first car of the next train will stop.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
