She sat sideways on the hard plastic bench. Her feet up on the seat, knees hugged tight against her chest. Her dirty skate shoes pointed toward the aisle, with their hot pink laces prominently displayed; daring someone, anyone to sit down beside her. Headphones in her ears, and an angry scowl obscured what could otherwise have been a very pretty face. The battery on her iPod had been dead since yesterday, but the headphones discouraged conversational overtures made by strangers. This Red Line train to the airport pegged her as a traveler, but in reality, she was just killing time.
_____
Sean Brown
The Anarchist Project
@SeanMcBrown
