She waits for the train to stop, unsure of her destination, she rides.
Its late, past her usual bedtime, the train rolls down the rigid tracks mildly shaking her from side to side.
Her mind, full.
But she doesn’t allow it to bother her, resisting the urge to pull out each strand of hair, she rides.
Tears fall, her hands too cold to dry them allowing them to dry on there own, white streaks on her face.
No crowd, just silence and a flicking light she watches at the end of the train.
By the morning, her life will continue to live, the earth continue to spin but until then, she rides.