Even with her eyes closed, Rizzo could see the fluorescent lights flicker frantically through her paper-thin eyelids. She could smell the fresh, buttery crust of a croissant in her midst. Every morning at 5 AM, Stephan restarted the train's service in time for the residents of Washington Heights to make it to their minimum-wage, dead end jobs. He had clearly visited the bakery before he walked into car #1. He bent down towards Rizzo and got just close enough so she could smell that as usual, he hadn't brushed his teeth. "Do you believe in hygiene at all Stephan?" Rizzo sarcastically commented as she hesitantly opened her droopy eyes. His cracked smile was staring back at her. "Good morning darling," Stephan exuberantly said. Even though Stephan had been waking Rizzo up every morning for 4 years, he still didn't understand that she was not a morning person. He also didn't understand that in Washington Heights, if you are fortunate enough to own a toothbrush, using it would be wise.
Stephan walked to the front of car #1 and placed his coffee, newspaper, and croissant inside his conductor's booth, fully loaded with bulletproff glass of course. He turned on all the train's electricity and started the motor. This line of trains stopped running at 11 PM everynight, Rizzo's favorite part of her day. At 11, She would curl up in the back corner of the car, snuggled with lots of pillows and blankets, and read Stephan's newspaper from earlier that day. She loved learning about current events from all over the world and on Sundays, cutting cupons occupied an entire hour. When she read about places like Indonesia and Spain, Rizzo closed her eyes and using her imagination, transported herself there. She really couldn't even afford a newspaper of her own let alone a vaction, and besides, Stephan only read it for the cartoons.
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