Short Story - Sloom

 I looked up.

     Not for any reason in particular. It’s one of those things that your eyes do when they're bored, I couldn’t help it. I looked at the sliver of track I could see over the concrete edge of the landing, and at the advertisements and graffiti plastered across the walls. Then the crowd shifted and blocked those things out of sight.

     I listened to the muffled sounds as they filtered through my headphones; of the crowd, and the garbled announcements, and the echoing screech of a train as it pulled into view on the opposite side of the station. There was no music playing. I had forgotten to turn it on.

     People were hurrying past me, and many stood by the edge of the landing, waiting for the right train. No one else sat on the bench I was sitting on. I suppose I wouldn’t have, either. It was empty when I came here.

     I watched the people in the crowd, and I wondered what they were thinking about. Where they were going, what had led them here. For some it was easy to guess, for others, I didn’t know anything at all.

     I saw a little boy, one of his arms stretched upward to hold his mother’s hand. She kept a tight grip on his fingers, making sure she didn’t lose him in the crowd. Her back was to me, but the little boy was looking around him with round, curious eyes. He looked at me, his gaze meeting mine as easily as only a child’s could. I smiled at him. More out of reflex than anything else.

     Another train pulled in. He looked over his shoulder at it, and then looked back at me and smiled, big and wide. My smile grew to match. This time, it felt real. The doors opened, and the boy’s mother tugged on his arm. The crowd closed in around them, and he was gone. The doors closed, the train pulled away.

     I thought of a song I had listened to a thousand times.

     “I met a man today, and he smiled back at me.

     And there are thoughts like these,

     that keep me on my feet,

     that keep me on my feet.”