Here it comes, she said to herself when everything waited: first a few restless pixels flickered to life, they leaped into a flurry of red, green, and blue dots that crawled and pulsated with frenzy, then a beam of light illuminated all windows: the packed subway car zigzagged left and right through the subterranean labyrinths, its passengers were cocooned in a swaying and breathing filament of warmth. As they closed their eyes to doze off, their weightless bodies glided over the abyss of the city’s subconscious. Here it comes, she said to herself, and a veil of noise fell from the overhead speakers and wrapped around her head. In the nameless depth outside the car, the LED lights from advertisements were warped by the windows. A trance of colors twirled on the face of fatigued passengers and seeped into their heavy eyelids for a precious 90 seconds, as the subway headed towards the next stop. Today’s dreams included:
Energy drink, POW! followed superman’s launch into space.
A swipe on the dating app led men and women somersaulting into happiness.
Engagement ring in slow rotation.
The newly developed apartment complex (located in the “city”, accessible by a mere 2-hour train ride), a woman chanted the number to call for five times in an ethereal voice.
A family vacation to the Philippines, where the ivory sails melted into marshmallow clouds, sound of foam-laced waves ruffling grains of the sandy beach.
Phantoms of bliss lingered for a moment in front of her eyes, but the fading sound of waves was followed by loud hisses in the speaker. Then the lights were suddenly back on, and silence woke up the passengers. Barely 7am in the morning, she had already fleetingly experienced the dreams by dozens of characters, or was it just the regurgitated dream of the same person? Amusing ourselves to death, she thought of the title of a book from her sociology class years ago, but couldn’t quite remember the points it made.
The handrails in the subway started rattling and the whole car leaned forward. She felt that they were approaching station. She wanted to catch a final glimpse of her hair in the car window, but she couldn’t find her own face in a mesh of huffing and sweating human fleshes, all in white-cotton office shirt and name tag around the neck, a ring of sweat under the sleeves, bloated shadows under the eyes, and a blank stare forward into the nothingness outside. Doors of the rush-hour subway opened, and the current of air and people surged outside, shoving each other mindlessly forward, and forward.
Stranger Under My Skin 