So, it was the pirate again. At dawn, same as last time except now he was sitting across the aisle from me on the train.
When we all got off the train to transfer, he and I stood near each other until the sunrise pulled me to the end of the platform and away from the commuter crowd. I needed to see the open sky before I was jammed away in my dull office box for hours and hours.
I waited for the drug addicts to finish taking their poisons and leave the dark corner near the edge of the end. And then I stepped all the way to the gated ledge and leaned over to get a full clear view of the sun spilling onto the horizon in deep hues of orange and pink. I breathed it in, and tried to make it a part of my body. Maybe today I could glow from the inside all day long.
The pirate followed me. I began to imagine that he really was some part of my former self that appeared occasionally as a separate person: my doppelgänger, perhaps? Life got exciting for a minute down there at the end of the line.
But then he got a phone call and I pieced together that he was a hair stylist. And he didn’t sleep much.
So I didn’t have Captain Jack Sparrow as some alter ego haunting me in the suburbs. I was mildly disappointed.
I went back to filling myself with sunshine before squeezing myself back into the train. At least if I wasn’t going to be a pirate, I could be a little bit shiny now.