“ご乗車ありがとうございます。”
“この電車は、阪急線、大阪梅田ゆきです。この電車は、上新庄、淡路、崇禅寺、南方、十三、大阪梅田ゆきです。”
He’s slouching on a faux-velvet sage seat with
sun-kissed crow’s feet and
cobalt bluetooth earbuds
their childish shade surprisingly complimentary
to his azure button-up and navy trousers
.
”上新庄、上新庄です。”
His pose
akin to the trio of high school boys a few cushions down
their legs
too long for those awkward bodies
.
”淡路、淡路です。”
His blithe demeanor contrasts his constricting ensemble
a lustrous monochrome watch
a sleek mahogany belt
a modest pair of pristine kobicha shoes
.
”崇禅寺、崇禅寺です。”
Despite the evident impact of an office dress code he is adorned with
an obscenely aquamarine phone case
that he grasps in his wrinkled paws
accented by a crumpled pair of salmon socks
sneaking out of his salary man cosplay
.
”南方、南方です。”
There is something attractive about the man
not that he is particularly good-looking
but there is something alluring about him
with each hitch in the track
he sways forward and back
each swerve intensifying his uncanny pull
.
The sound of the stations crescendo as the car barrels towards the city center
izakaya chicken grease and beer stained suits flood the confined space alongside
starched sailor skirts
like bat and moth
looking for respite in the night’s lights
His grubby claws
The type to allow the anonymity of a late-night train ride
Be an excuse to prey on wings like mine
.
”十三、十三です。”
His stretch entirely absent of awareness for othe—
He’s getting up.
But barely anyone gets off at Juso at this time of night
He’s grabbing his things.
Where’s he-
He left.
.
My neck strains until the rest of my body follows
half-eaten nails furiously engraving crescents into clammy life-lines
I hear the faint hum of pneumatic doors ready to shut on the dreary station
the sound of a “game over” screen
or of a call to action
.
With an abrupt slam of my sketchbook
and a sharp swing around the stanchion
I escape slamming doors
On the platform I’m hit with a fresh bout of vertigo
worsened by the clamor of trains trading passengers
Amidst blurry streaks of faces and warning lights
Cobalt blue headphones sink into the underbelly of the station
.
My run devolves into a slide as the oily platform coats my soles
My hands, like rams
bust through the crowd before any reckless shoulders can divert me
With a fumble over the final step
He’s only one desperate reach away
.
I’m drowning
I’m burning
The screeching of brakes
The impatient kick of a vending machine
The harsh thrust of a turnstile
.
On the sidewalk awaits two welcoming pairs of arms
Waiting beside a bright orange taxi
He rips out the earbuds and drops down into a deep squat
The soft pop of his right knee
Hinting at a weariness
That is entirely absent in his warm expression
.
He is now face-to-face with a sweet, toothy smile
And a perfect pair of pigtails set in big blue bows
He unwinds that same fluorescent cord
And connects it between them ear to ear
He presents his clunky smartphone
and her clumsy fingers press play
.
Their giggles echo one another
Filling the emptying street with rousing music
They harmonize for an eternity
Until a manicured hand lovingly rakes through their thick black locks
A reminder that nothing is forever
And that the meter is running
With a practiced scoop she’s now secured on his hip
As the trio ducks into the taxi and the tires carry them away
.
The shūden chime sirens
A final call for the nights weary travelers
A warning of imminent desertion
I neither chase after this fleeting moment
nor return to the safety of the final train car
I just shiver silently
Realizing I have entirely forgotten the sound of my father’s laugh.
