by Armen Changelian

Created on: May 02, 2009

Blue Line. Wonderland Station. Milton Davis boards the crowded Boston subway and takes his seat. As the rest of the subway population arrives and the ride begins, Davis sits and does what he does every morning: he observes the passengers. The man directly across from him is in his fifties and balding: business attire, a standard briefcase at his feet, he is tired, indifferent, and stuck. He doesn't ride the subway; the subway carries him. It carries him through life, and he is content to go wherever it takes him. He is too tired to bother getting off the ride. Davis turns to his right. Standing by the door, a college student pumps music into his ears and blocks out the world with his headphones. He stares blankly at the blurred lights of the tunnel outside, suddenly realizing he is hungry again. He readjusts his backpack, fingers the brim of his cap, and anxiously prepares to jump out as soon as the doors open. Davis turns back to the businessman, who is pretending to read a report taken from his briefcase.

"What do you do?" Davis asks, breaking the silence of the subway. The businessman glances up momentarily and then returns to his paper.

"I sell," he responds.

"What do you sell?" Davis continues. This time, the businessman does not look up and does not respond. He is done. Davis returns his gaze to the college student, who is completely oblivious to the conversation that has just taken place.

Revere Beach Station. The college student escapes before the doors have even fully opened. The businessman puts his paper away but remains in his seat, noticeably avoiding eye contact with Milton. An older gentleman boards the subway and shuffles over to the empty spot next to Davis, lowering himself slowly and cautiously into the cramped seat, finally letting out a sigh as he settles back and stretches his legs.

"Cold one out there," the old man announces to no one in particular.

"Yeah," Davis responds, "but we're due for some sunshine this weekend."

Silence again befalls the subway car. The old man is peculiar. He is alone, no briefcase, no backpack; just stories, time, and empty pockets.

"Have you ever wondered how it can be so cold one day and so warm the next?" Davis suddenly inquires of the old man. He considers this for a moment, then replies,

"I imagine each day has an equal chance of being warm or cold."

Davis considers this response as he turns his attention to a couple standing down towards the end of the car: a greasy-haired man dressed in black, his arm around his

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