The Perils Of The New York City Subway

As a child, Jaime loved the subway. No car seats. Strange people. Traveling underground in a long tunnel. She couldn't wait to be old enough to ride into the city on her own.

She remembered how fucking innocent she used to be. Now she hates the subway. Especially the strange people.

Today for instance. The only available seat's in the corner. Right next to the cocoon. It's been growing for weeks. It used to be a rider, but now he's pupating on the D Train.

Jaime sits. It's not the grossest thing she's witnessed on the New York City subway.

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Between classes, Hollie and I liked to sneak over to the coffee shop across the road. The trouble was, it was a busy intersection with no crossing points; what a relic! So imagine how frightened I was when she just took off into the busy traffic. Between the perils of angry horns and fast-paced steel she somehow made it to the other side.

Being more sensible, I waited until it was quieter. Then I sprinted over eyes shut and caught up to her.

“It's ok,” she said as I caught my breath, “they are not allowed to run you over.”

From Guest Contributor George Aitch