The ribbon.

I was in the subway, the other day.

Waiting. It's weird... this kind of waiting, you know... First, you count the stations remaining. "I've only got four stops... then three... then two..." you think to yourself. Second, you picture your already getting out of the train and climbing up the stairs to the outside world... And then you regain conscience, only to discover that, yes you're still stuck in the wagon, among with every single stranger. And it is so dull to think.

I was three stops away from my arrival, when a girl with her grandpa came in. He had this narrative, nostalgic tone of voice every little kid would life-long remember. But I couldn't really listen to what they were saying. I was just watching the girl move her mouth and hands and twist and turn around the old man, laughing, and making him laugh as well.

Stop two and it seemed like the girl and her grandpa had to go, when the girl dropped her ribbon. An instant thought of my catching the ribbon immediately and calling to the girl to come and take it back. Well, it disappeared after a while. Because I adultly thought "I had no time". After a few moments had passed, the bell rang, and the doors had to shut.

I could only say one thing about this brainstorming, momental thought: Time wastes our body and our wits, but we waste time, so we are quits.

But look! The train has just reached its departure.

Now off I go...