The train

I used to like walking in the dark morning. Now it's become a symbol of my timely bedtime, not something to enjoy but something to pop up in my thoughts

I am a cat. Digging my fingers into myself feels about right. Back in my home country, where I was a princess, was a place where I would be raised to care about others. But I'm here, the selfish life and scratching my back.

This train is part of my circadian rhythm

The mall

My friend, from the provinces, came with me to the mall. She found a lucky dime at the threshold, and was amazed at the malls luxury. She described in detail how grateful she was to how carefully thought out the washroom was laid out.

We ate chicken and sauced up sushi and were full the whole day. We separated; I bought the chicken, she bought the sushi. I quelled a lonely moment waiting for her to buy the sushi, listening to the people next to me argue about where their next destination was. The suburbs of Spain feel so similar to here.

I felt my friend's fervent gratefulness and the trains were always exactly on time. She healed some stress I felt last week from my desire to do a good job. On the way home, she asks if we have to switch trains. She doesn't know I could walk the way home in my sleep.