He got on just in front of the closing doors and stood opposite an empty seat in an otherwise crowded underground train, one arm clutching the bar above for balance, the other his bag, and after finding room for his eyes, let, one by one, dear reminiscences that had no place in that unfeeling carriage, drape over the laps of the rocking commuters onto the seats and floor, and all along the dirty steps and windy passageways as he walked his way to work.
Out of Place
Constant Voice 