A Commute

For Want of a Duck

I am on a train at the far end of rush hour. The guy sitting next to me shivers and twitches in fever: a plague in beige corduroy slacks and dark blue blazer. I chose unwisely and surely will pay in the days ahead. Spying an opening at the next stop, I cross the aisle to a freshly vacant seat and promptly occupy it. The seat is still warm with the heat from an old manโ€™s buttocks, but no matter. Here in this new land there is room to stretch out and read a book about a hapless Death as the germs burrow deep into my lungs. Once situated, they begin to divide and multiply. Hurry, train, hurry. Theyโ€™re doing arithmetic for Heavenโ€™s sake!

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