Trudging Along...Again

Rizzo had approximately 19 more minutes until the train returned back to the uptown station. This was just enough time to pin up her frizzy, wet hair into a tight bun, apply crumbling mascara, and line her baggy yet shimmering eyes with a stubby eye pencil-all the while using the subway car windows as her mirror. Through the graffiti words and symbols, she saw the image of a hopeless case reflecting back at her. When her parents divorced at the age of 7, she was required by law to go to a therapist. She used Dr. Cole's words of advice everyday, even now. "Take a deep breath and think of all the great things that make you smile," Rizzzo heard her voice like a tape recording on repeat. She inhaled a large, calming breath which was laced with the smell of gasoline and plastic. Beginning to ease up, she slipped sideways into a hard seat and blended in with all the other passengers. Even though some of them knew that she lived on this very subway car and was without a proper job, to an outsider she looked like an average working woman on her way to the office. Rizzo's fitted black pantsuit hugged her body as if it were custom made for her by a designer. Only she knew that she had fished it out of the bottom of a cardboard barrel at The Salvation Army last year.

The train pulled into the Washington Heights Station and she stood up and joined the other passengers as they systematically made their way out of the car and onto the platform like a group of cattle. Continuing with the bovine theme, they were herded up the dirty, cracked cement steps only to find that the day was going to start of badly-it was beginning to rain. Rain in Washington Heights was like no other that Rizzo had ever seen. It was dirty, it smelled bad, and much like a full moon-it brought out all the weirdos. Not that Rizzo considered herself to fit in that category though...As she scrambled to pick up some newspaper off the steps and open it above her head, she saw Clio Ford (who she went to high school with) slowly making her way down the same flight of stairs carrying a large bouquet of red roses. She was probably making a delivery. Each woman politely nodded in the other's general direction and gave an awkwardly tight, closed-lipped smile. This was not an uncommon interaction for the once best friends. Finally having reached the top of the stairs, Rizzo turned to her left and made her way to the bakery for breakfast. This was only the beginning of her never ending day.