Graphic Fuzz

Friday. Like the four days before it, finds me at a brisk gait towards the A line express train in Fulton Park. For no reason whatsoever I have chosen my higher quality over-the-ear headphones instead of earbuds, enabling a sort of end-of-the-week buffer on reality. Through the turnstyle, at the top of the stairs my disconnected vision tells my brain "that is my train" and shortly after, "move quickly" as my feet find a precise frantic rhythm in the decent. Without misstep I am aboard. Not only have I efficiently navigated the first leg of my commute, but in doing so secured the coveted front-of-the-first-car position, where a single lonely pane of glass grants the only parallel view of the vessel's motion. At this moment I have come to the realization that I've forgotten my lunch.