The Meeting on the Subway

Hey!

This story is entered in the 'Fall For You' contest! If you would like to join, go here: https://www.wattpad.com/1385770496-contests-prompts-fall-for-you

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Happy reading!

~Ella

I pull the keys out of the ignition and close my eyes, taking a deep breath. A second later I open them, and turn around in my seat.

Sure enough my cello's in the backseat, nestled in it's big, black case.

The sight of it makes me shiver. Its been so long since I last played. But John offered me the gig, and it payed well. And I needed to move on.

I push open the door and retrieve my cello. With a sigh I walk over to the giant steps, loose gravel crunching under my feet.

I stare up at the gleaming marble columns at the top of the stairs.

If only she were here.....

This fall wasn't like any other, because I met her, and she changed my life. Before, I was just an average person, living an average life, doing average things. Then suddenly she stepped in, and my world was turned upside down. All at once, black was white, left was right, and up was down.

The day we met was just like any other, but I can still remember the day we met like it was yesterday.....

***

(A month earlier.)

I shoved my way through the turnstiles and looked around, my bag clutched to my chest. The clattering of pedestrians echoed through the tunnel as they calmored to hop on the next train.

Graffiti covered the walls. Tattered posters hung from the wall, like soggy paper towels. The asphalt floor was uneven and cracked, littered with dirt and leaves that had somehow found themselves underground.

I loved it here, especially in the fall, when the trees turned fiery red, and coffee shops became busier than ever. I would take a walk almost every morning down the street, just enjoying the bustling, yet calming atmosphere.

Everyone saw the city as a chaotic street full of tourists, and honking horns. To me, it was much more. New York was constantly moving in a steady pattern that everyone fell into; even the tourists with their fanny packs and busy cameras.

I watched as a group in business suits pushed past the turnstiles and complained in loud voices about their bosses. After that came a group of tourists, they took pictures of everything like the dirty posters were special compared to the ones they had back home.

They always made me laugh, and I don't mean that rudely. They were so cheerful, and, while a little annoying, sweet and curious.

I heaved my cello up onto the platform and set up my stand. Street performing wasn't the only way I made money, I just did it as a hobby. It always made people smile as they passed, dropping a few coins into my case.

Well, that or it made them look at me as though I had ruined their day. But, most of the time, the effect was positive.

I quickly checked to be sure my instrument was tuned and began to play.

The music swelled around me, crescendoing like a giant wave rising, only to crash back down to earth. It wrapped me in a sort of embrace that warmed me to the core.

I always got lost in music like that. It was how I saw things, the way the world worked.

I had written the song I played. It was one of my favorites, it always reminded me of that fateful, and wonderful day.