There was a suicide.
The trains stop running.
People crowd the platform.
A body crushed under the wheels of a speeding train.
You are selfish.
You are sad.
You are remembered as an inconvenience.
What did you want?
There’s always one this time of year, she says adjusting her sunglasses.
And it’s always during rush hour.
Impact. Significance. That’s what you wanted.
And I’m sorry this is how you had to get it.