Sunday, July 25, 2010

Breaking out of a bag

Large orange jacket.
He is visibly warm.
Too warm.
He starts to fiddle as soon as he sits.
He takes off his yellow tinted sunglasses.
They are connected to a yellow rubber strap that I suppose he bought so that he can wear the yellow tinted sunglasses around his neck like a librarian when he tires of seeing yellow.
He opens his black backpack and gets a plastic bag out.
There seems to be mail in the plastic bag.
Maybe junk mail as he seems impatient and unaffected by the contents.
The bag gets rolled back up.
More discomfort.
He takes the yellow tinted sunglasses off of his neck.
He roots around in his backpack for another plastic bag unearthing another pair of yellow tinted sunglasses and puts them on.
I wonder how many plastic bags are in that backpack.
I imagine a life organized by plastic bags.
I think of the growing number of plastic bags under my sink.
The first pair of yellow tinted sunglasses, strap and all, go sloppily into the plastic bag.
Another yellow strap gets pulled out of a different pocket in the backpack but is not used for the sunglasses.
More discomfort.
Only two stops until we have to get out and be in the cold weather to change trains.
He takes off his large orange coat and wraps the second yellow strap around it.
Tieing it up like a sleeping bag.
At this point he seems very pleased with himself for the first time.
He is feeling the satisfaction of his efficiency.
He pops his collar and looks around.
No one else is excessively warm on the train.
His darting eyes don't meet anyone else's in agreement.
He would probably strip down to nothing if he could.
He may or may not have enough yellow straps to bind up the rest of his clothing and
I have never felt so still.

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