Reasons to Hate the Commute

#295 Introvert Woes ~ anonymous

Don't you hate it when people try to talk to you on the commute?

On trains and buses, especially.

Why trains and buses especially? Because you can't get out. And if you don't have gadgets to help you tune out annoyances, you're screwed.

Just yesterday a lady stood beside me on the train. All the seats were taken, but the train wasn't packed. I was standing very still, watching something on my gem V. So I had to wonder why she chose to stand beside me, of all places.

"Do you know a human body decomposes twice as fast if it's in water, than if it's under the ground?"

That came from her. I turned off my gem and looked at her. "Is that right?"

I didn't know what to make of her. She was small and shrunken, but she didn't look old - maybe she was 50 or so. I remember clearly that she had long, lanky black hair and very large eyes.

"It's the oxidation," she continued. "Also, it matters if there's a current, and what kind of animals live in the water that may feed on the flesh."

I said something that I hope sounded like I was agreeing with her, but she kept on spewing facts at me. Something about how quickly bodies decompose on land?

I decided she wasn't really listening. She was just staring at my face with her huge black eyes and talking. So I decided I wasn't going to listen any more, either.

I moved away from her, but she sidled up to me. It made sense, because she wanted to keep talking to me...but it was still weird, because there were plenty of other places she could stand in, and plenty of other people she could talk to.

"The bones stay, of course. For several months. But flesh is weak and falls away quite easily."

I looked at the people around us. No one met my gaze. Either they were on their gadgets and not paying attention, or they were happily pretending they couldn't hear.

You realize that it was a long trip, and she said a lot of things, and all of the things I've recounted so far are from memory, so the details are fuzzy. However, I won't easily forget how she looked. Or how she smelled. What a strange smell!

Neither will I easily forget the last thing she said, before she had to get off:

"And do you know? Drowning is one of the most painful ways to die. But afterwards, it's really one of the most pleasant. Maybe it's something you have to experience to understand."

I asked her what she meant, but she was already walking toward the exit.

I maintain that I remember very little about her. Only that she talked about bodies, never listened, looked right into my face, and smelled strongly like the river near my home.