Writing in Transit: The Echo

“Seat, seat, seat,” she repeats (repeats repeats). She looks about five, and it would be more endearing if it wasn’t the third time she’d done it. Each stop, each vacant spot, there she was, like a miniature hawk.

She wanted to sit; you could hear the desperation in her voice. But each time, Mom replied in her own echo “no, stay here”.

“Ugh, no seat anymore,” was the pitiful response.

Of course the seat in front of me opened. I sat, feeling guilty. I heard “ugh, no seat anymore,” and felt guiltier still.

Next stop. “Okay, that’s us!”

Seriously? Seriously

Writing in Transit is a recurring series of 100-word stories based on my experiences on the subway. Posted on Fridays, they’re exactly 100 words. I double checked.


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