Lyrical Vibing

Without a care I hopped the turnstile and dashed onto the platform, heading up a small set of stairs. Once I got to the top step I took it easy to catch my breath, walking over to the seating area in the middle of the platform. The station itself was around for only twenty years, but with the constant upkeep and cleaning of it, you’d think it was recently opened to the public only a few weeks ago. The lights overhead were cone-shaped light fixtures, covering a large area in white light so that everybody and everything could be seen. The seats were constructed from a sturdy wood, lightly covered in some kind of waxing so that they wouldn’t scratch or break easily no matter how big a person would sit in them. The platform itself was concrete raised up from a metal structure, perfect in case heavy rain dropped down on the area. The only part that sucked was it was all outdoors, so it was especially bothersome to wait around during the colder days.

But with the hot beats coming from my headphones, I didn’t even notice it.

I took my seat and looked up at the train schedule, seeing that the next city-bound train was arriving in four minutes.

“Just enough time for the next track,” I said.

I took my phone out and skipped to the next track of the album I was listening to. The beats on the new track picked up the pace, the lyrics going at a racing speed to match. Thankfully I was able to catch every word. Throwing my hands behind my head and letting my legs stretch out, I relaxed as I waited for the train. My head kept bobbing as the rhythm took over my body, the snares acting like audio signals for my movements.

You can’t touch my style, my way, my flow.

You just jealous, think it’s all for show.

Well let me tell you somethin’, Mac

I don’t like it when you try to talk smack.

As I was enjoying my music, I felt a slow rumbling coming from the bottom of my feet. Not wanting to to completely lose my vibe, I opened one eye to see what was going on. I looked up at the train schedule and saw that my train was about to arrive. I leaned forward in my seat and saw the train slowly coming into the station. Most of the train cars were empty, a couple of them having a person or two in them, most likely going out to have some fun in the metro. When the train came to a full stop and opened its doors, I hopped up and dashed inside. My train car was mostly empty except for a man sitting far on the other side. I couldn’t make out any real distinct details about him except for the navy blue suit and white tie he wore. He was leaning forward, his face buried in his hands from reason.

Not my problem, I thought. With that in mind when I saw the train car doors close, I let myself lay back in my seat and closed my eyes, feeling the rocking of the train mixing with the beats from my headphones—it was as if the train could hear what I was listening to and wanted to join in.

The average travel time from the rural to the metro was usually no more than about ten minutes, sometimes no more than seven during peak hours. Considering it was late at night, my ride would last anywhere between ten to fifteen minutes, but I didn’t mind that. I had my music to keep me company. Feeling the beat of the next track, I couldn’t help but sing out loud.

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