It could have been another day, just as simple another train or a different meeting at another stop. Inconsequential the order or the meaning - the blend of days has become consuming. And what more can be expected?
Variety still exists, however, in the change of faces on the subway, women playing games on mobile phones, random Italians chatting like hummingbirds - with gestures, too. Conversation continues in the seats in the middle of the car, young Indian girls relishing some free hours from chores. A black man with mutton chops governs the others in his handsome suit and derby hat. He exits one stop before the gay man with close-cropped hair looks with eyebrows raised over longing eyes at the preoccupied writer across the aisle. No matter really - the train keeps moving after the stop.
Simple and puzzling the same to follow the parade. These are the same faces of those other days, similar intentions anyway. Yet, one notices the moment passing with a simple glance, as simple as the opening and closing of subway doors. Not much different really, except the entire mix of people and the mood that gives them instant color.
The parade might have included a lawyer, an Asian design student with playful horn-rimmed glasses and inquisitive eyes. Headphones and any-man hip-hop music from a young man without confidence. The young man's transformation may result in the older man with bi-focals leafing through a paper and sitting erect with his New Balance running shoes on; the shoes are grey but have scuffs to show wear. The parade could have included others but for the final stop and end of the rumination.
And so it goes, another day unfolds. Much the same really, unless attention heeds the stops in between. Therein lies the pleasure.