• Vol. 09
  • Chapter 10
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Ten Thousand Reasons Why

The train is here, the glass doors squeak open, and she, who's been waiting for a long, long time, can't get on it, someone's left a lawn mower right at the entrance, would you believe it, it looks too heavy for her to lift it aside, she can't step over it, unless she hikes up her skirt — so unlady-like — she's afraid she'll trip over it — her mother has always said she was risk-averse — or worse, twist her ankle on her high heels, she can't push it to the side because there's a clear plastic bin next to it, with something metallic that looks almost as hefty as the lawn mower, a folded up metal chair perhaps, someone will yell at her if she nudges the box aside, she can't shove the lawn mower back either, someone's backpack, a military backpack, sits on the floor behind the lawn mower, someone like the lawn-mower owner, or the backpack owner, or the clear plastic bin with a folded-up metallic chair owner, or all three of them will surely give her a nasty look, or say something mean, scream an insult even, but wait, is it an abandoned backpack, is there a ticking bomb — never know these days — best wait for the next train, even if she knows there'll be most likely something wrong with the next train, someone will be standing at the entrance, coughing and spitting, she doesn't want to breathe in toxic air or germy air or sweat-stinky air, and the next train will be more crowded, and the next train will be an older and slower model, and the next train will creak too loudly to her liking, and the next, the next, the next, her life's a series of train scenarios, strips of comics telling her why she can't possibly get on the train, why she's still waiting for a train, she's always waiting for a train, a train with no lawn mower, no military backpack, no plastic bin with folded-up metallic chair, a train with the perfect sliding doors gliding open with a gentle hiss, a train with no graffiti on the wall, a train with perfect white walls, a train with perfect cushioned seats, a train with perfect passengers holding their purses or bags or packages with no bother to other passengers, a flawless train, a train she could step inside with no objections.