Septa Note

Beads of rain dropped from heavy clouds in the sky onto my hoodie and face. It was not so hard that it could hurt me, but it was also not so light that I couldn’t recognize it. 

I ran to the entrance of the subway. The smell in the subway was as strong as usual during these special days. The water brought by the shoes creates a lot of brown patterns on the orange steps. When I went down a few steps, I saw the turning passage toward the other steps had a large puddle, and a little water dropped from the ceiling to the puddle, making a ripple on the surface. This kind of scene always makes me feel annoyed. 

At that moment, I measured the distance and wondered if I could jump across the puddle, but instantly I gave up, turned, and planned to go to the subway entrance across the road. But I hesitated about the future of being drenched by rain and stepped front and back, being trapped with hesitation. The wrinkles between my eyebrows grow deeper. I saw some teenage boys behind me walk forward. I thought they would be like me and go to another subway entrance, but what they did was out of my imagination. 

They step on a caution sign that was placed flat on the puddle and make their feet step on the dry floor on the opposite side of the puddle. It was a smart method. I was amazed by his actions. I had never thought about it before. I guess it’s what is called “letting your thoughts jump out of the ordinary.” I was surprised by how people are different and can come up with ideas and actions that are completely different from yours. 

More people passed me and used the sign to pass the puddle. Following them, I also did the same thing and passed the puddle without making my shoes wet. It didn’t feel bad, not only because I didn’t need to go to another subway and be under the rain, but also because I was glad to know one thing that I had never known before and see the new world (the world of breaking the ordinary). 

In the subway station, it was as crowded as usual. I looked down the railway and noticed some water coming out and flowing away. The railway has a lot of trash, such as empty plastic bottles and wet cigarettes. People in the subway are mostly teenagers; some of them gathered and chatted, and some of them lowered their heads and looked at their phones. The subway came quickly, and I entered it. People came on the train and quickly made the space feel muggy; the smell of sweat, shampoo, perfume, shoes, and cigarette smoke mixed to create a difficult smell to describe. 

There are teenagers, adults, elders, and children on the subway. It feels different to see people like students or suited adults in a place that is not a place where you will immediately imagine when hearing the words student or white collar. It was the scene I see every day, but when I carefully observe the world and things around me—buses, subways, bicycles—transportation is always at the core of one’s life. 

Everyone is different, having different thoughts, experiences, work, and lives. But at the moment, with everyone doing the same things and having the same purpose, it feels like people are all the same; we are all in the same space, taking the same subway. It’s a place where you stay in the same place with someone you meet or do not meet, smell the smell you aren't familiar with, and see stories of people in the same city.