We took a different line than the two I’m used to riding. As usual, I stared at everyone quite unabashedly. There is always so much to look at here, and smell, and on a Friday night even more so. Smell? Yes, smell! There were laborers in the car who were still sweaty from their day’s work and stank with it, and women doused in flowery perfume, and the reek of booze wafting up here and there though I couldn’t tell from whom. Whenever I’m on the train I think about how much Mother would loathe it, which, of course, makes me love it all the more.
