A single trail of eyeliner, although she might have tried to rub it away, ran down her cheek. Her nose a breath away from the subway door’s window. Her lips moving, repeating the same shapes. Rehearsing what she’ll say. Her reflection, the audience, as the train moved through the darkened tunnel.
Three stations later, she’s finished the speech. The movement transfers from her mouth to her legs. The left foot starts tapping. At the next stop, she’s dancing, arms in the air, head shaking from side to side, as she exits the train and runs up the escalator, and outside.