Trying to get the tube home.
A young Chinese woman in a brown plaid jacket and skirt holds a black briefcase and stands with her back to me on the platform. She watches a District Line train passing through, but it is too late for me and has left by the time I get there.
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I go back to the first platform and David hands me two condoms wrapped in an article ripped from a magazine. He says thanks, but don’t tell Jana about his fling.
I call out to Jana as she leaves, something with double meaning, something she will not get.
So now I should to take the train to Chalk Farm. I thought it was north but it is south on the Victoria line. From there I can connect with the District as the Central Line seems out of the question this late.
The train is getting packed. It is the same woman, jacket removed, petite, slight build, cheek to cheek with me. We are squeezed together, our breath occupies the same space.
More people push their way in, and she is gradually pushed up, higher and higher until she is above the crowd. Her red shoulder-strap top is pulled down as she ascends, disarming flat breasts revealed. And once she is lying flat, across the heads of the passengers, she starts to spin, horizontally, under the neon light, slowly, her clothes peeling off as she spins; until she is naked.
Until her pale cherubic bottom is in my face.
Photo by Kevin Jaako via Flickr
