Project in Progress I

The smell of waffles smothered in margarine wafts towards him from a nearby food stall, watering his mouth. He remembers he forgot to eat breakfast in his haste and excitement. Today is an important day for him, and he often forgets such mundane matters like food on days like this.

He climbs the stairs to the MRT Ayala station, buys a ticket, and goes through the ticket machines. Suspended from above, the big Timex clock greets him with the time: 6:15 AM. Better early, he decides.

He takes the escalator pouring people into the already crowded platform below.

What a curious thing, the train. How it can warp time and space, how it could make life both harder and easier, the way it shrinks distances, the way it creates free time for more work.

He makes a mental note to find out the etymology of the word "train." He is someone who is fond of collecting small, useless trivia, keeping them inside his head until needed. Like candies in his pocket.

A shrill whistle from the station security guard, the urgent ringing of an alarm bell, then the train arrives, halting with a loud screech. As if on cue, the passengers turn frantic, fighting their way inside the train, pushing and jostling each other, like a single many-headed monster throwing a tantrum.

He adjusts his thick steel-rimmed glasses and joins the furious crowd.

to be continued