by Katie Hinderer

Created on: December 04, 2008

Caroline stood her ground next to the opening subway car door. A mob of people had begun pushing to enter the train as a handful still tried to exit. She could feel a droplet of sweat run from the back of her knee down her pant-clad leg. It had been a long day at work, which started at 7am and now at almost 6 pm she wasn't in the mood to deal with the pushing and shoving that accompanied every afternoon commute. She was already overheated and a little light-headed. Crashing in front of the television for a good two hours was the only thing on her mind.

The last person wedged herself out and the pushing began. Minutes later, Caroline was shoved into the middle of the car with people crowding in on all sides. Tucking her purse closer to her, she glanced up to see the person she was pressing sides with. Black hoody looking well worn with tattered sleeve ends and a hole at the elbow, he had a tattoo of a black snack that appeared to be trying to escape right out of his sweatshirt and off his neck. Caroline looked down to try and move her feet and felt the train lurch into motion. The passangers swayed forward and Caroline found herself even closer to the dark passenger in front of her. She tried to smile at him, but he was too engrossed in the book he was holding well above his head.

One stop, two stops, at the third stop, Caroline thought she might pass out if one more passenger tried to push his way into the over crowded car. A baby was crying somewhere in the car, probably squished up against her mom in one of those harness comtraptions. A few more people moved into the car and the doors closed.

At the next stop only two people squished their way out but six people tried to move their way in, including a portly, middle-aged biker man. Instead of looking at the people he planned to push by walking in the normal way, he turned around and backed into the subway car. "I'm a sardine. We're all sardines," he yelled above the din of complaints and the baby's cry. No one wanted to budge but he was determined to squirm his way on. The doors closed sealing him in. As the train lurched forward, Caroline grabbed the guy's waist to catch her balance. Bright red with embarrasement she glanced up at him as her hand pulled away quickly.

"Excuse me," she said trying to look him in the face but focusing on his tattoo instead.

"No problem," was his simple response before turning back to Crime and Punishment.

Caroline looked at her fellow passenger. He had longish black hair that was

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