It's 7:42 am in Chicago. I'm on a southbound red line train heading to work. The train pulls into the Lawrence station and the doors open. An elderly woman loses control of her cane as she exits the train. She falls on the platform and bumps her head. The sound is awful. There is blood. "Oh my GOD," she begins to scream in agony. "Oh my God! No!" she screams again. And a train full of strangers are now brothers and sisters. We are all thinking about our mothers. We are thinking about death. "Please God. Please help me God!" Our faces absorb her pain. She screams and cries between walkie talkie static. The conductor very calmly announces that we will be delayed. We sit in silence. My hand is over my mouth. We want so badly for her to be okay. She is now surrounded by CTA employees. A woman strokes her back gently and assures her that help us on the way. I see her tiny sneakers wiggle just beyond the train doors. The conductor returns. His mustache covers his mouth. His eyes widen in place. He climbs back into front of the car and announces we will now depart. The doors close and her screams are muffled. We sit in silence. Acknowledging that something awful has occurred. We are eggs walking on jagged rocks. After a minute or so people slowly return to their books and phones. The horror falls away and vanishes like snow in the wind. The conductor announces the next stop. I'm gonna be late. I text my boss. “K,” My boss replies.
Nicolas Garcia lives in Illinois with his spousal comrade. His art and lyrics have been featured in Agitator Gallery's And Then exhibition and anthology. His song "Storefront Glass" and photography were recently selected for the Field Museum Pandemic and Protest Collection. In December of 2021, he started Good Coffee Entertainment and released, as Bob Rok, a full-length musical album titled Press Start.
