In the subway, It was rush hour, and it was crowded in that car.
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In the subway, It was rush hour, and it was crowded in that car. Squeezed into a corner of the train, clinging desperately to the handrail above me as I'm surrounded by men and women coming home from work or shopping or whatever it is they did that dragged them out into the traffic we shared.
Published by OutrageousMunnu1995
Video Transcription
In the subway. It was rush hour, and it was crowded in that car. Always, and usually I hate it.
Squeezed into a corner of the train, clinging desperately to the handrail above me as I'm surrounded.
By men and women coming home from work or shopping or whatever it is they did that dragged them out into the traffic we shared.
I feel arms and knees and elbows and backs all around me, crushing me.
People reading newspapers or magazines or looking out the windows or talking to each other, trying to forget how uncomfortable they all are.
Every bump and lurch of the subway car causes us to sway, and I'm forced to sway with them.
It's all I can do to hang onto the rail, yet I feel like if I let go, I'll still remaining standing, held up by the flood of people surrounding me.
It was in this state that I was in the train pulled into the station. At this stop, as at every stop, I was hoping silently that some of the people would get off and ease up on the pressure.
I watched some of them filing off with relief, but not enough of them left. And more began to fill in. Then more.
I grit my teeth as they forced themselves into the already crowded train, being compacted slowly.
Finally, the doors closed and we began moving again, even more crowded than before.
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