Doors Closing


The train arrived at the station, but the doors didn’t open. Pressed in the middle of a crowd, I didn’t make it to the far end of the car in time to exit through one of the other doors and found myself a captive passenger, bound for the next station. The detour was annoying, but was not a major disruption to my routine. I exited at the next station and caught a train going back the other way within a few minutes and was back on track without even running late. I did find myself realizing just how much I expect things to work a certain way: expecting doors to open, for instance, and failing to respond quickly enough to avoid being sidetracked when they don’t open the way that I expect. On the other hand, I do have the capacity to learn from this, so now I have more choice about whether it happens again. 

The bus route diverts off the highway in order to stop near the UCLA campus. Each day, it passes a gym walled with glass. Every day I find myself searching the figures for The Redhead: a doppelganger who appears on one of the stair steppers near the windows once or twice each week- just infrequently enough that I am never one hundred percent certain that I haven’t imagined her. I keep trying to capture a photo of her like a Bigfoot enthusiast trying to prove the existence of an urban Sasquatch. The results have been about what one might expect from a camera phone from a moving bus through two panes of glass. Who knows, maybe she searches out the window each day for the redheaded doppelganger who rides the bus past her gym. 

I wonder what it would be like to meet somebody with whom I share an uncanny resemblance. People say that my sister Bean and I look a lot alike, but we don’t see it as much since we grew up together- but to meet a stranger who looks just like you must be very strange indeed. 

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~ by Gwydhar Gebien on February 16, 2017.

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