Another short subway story

As I scoured the internet, hunting for some new writing projects, I realized how neglectful I’ve been of my DIYdancer community lately. So, here’s a quickie . . . I haven’t written any new subway stories since getting back to Manhattan. But, in the wake of that crazy lady Irene, I am re-motivated to push forward with telling the tales of NYC’s underground transport. Enjoy!

A Bedtime Story

It had been a long and tiring day. I fought the urge to close my eyes. Eventually, the swaying of the subway car lulled me to sleep.

After an indiscernible amount of time, I woke up and was greeted by an elderly man playing a keyboard while singing lullabies.

When the man finished the final verse, he broke into an enormous smile. The rest of the subway passengers rewarded him with applause and laughter. I lifted my hand to hide the pink tint forming in my cheeks, and then reached into my purse to retrieve a crisp one-dollar bill.