She took this train every morning. There and back. There and back. There and back. There and back again. Five days a week with a weekend that was filled with housework and grocery shopping and calling her parents to make sure they hadn’t died yet. It was tiring.

She didn’t complain, mind you. She enjoyed a challenge. She worked her tail off through college in order to graduate nearly debt free and without relying on her parents, and she was proud of it. But after graduating, her dream job fell through, her boyfriend of three years left her, and her younger brother was paralyzed from the waist down in a car accident. So she couldn’t leave her family; she couldn’t go anywhere at all.

On this day, she sat in a seat on the Hypersonic Express and watched the businessmen board and disembark every minute, hurrying off to tempt their fortune. They didn’t look unhappy as much as careless, like they were too busy to notice anyone not paying them for their services: capitalism’s hookers.

One particular man stood out to her this day with a beer belly, a wool flat cap, and an impatient expression on his face. Studying his smartphone, he suddenly swore loudly. Clearly surprising himself with his own outburst, he looked up, locked eyes with her, and physically reddened. He attempted to apologize, but as he did, someone bumped him and his hat fell to the floor.

She nearly laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation and immediately reached down and picked up the cap. As she looked back up at him, he seemed confused and extended his hand awkwardly. His brows raised, and a lopsided apologetic smile creased his anxious mouth. She wondered if his life was truly much different from hers.

As the train stopped for but a moment, she handed the hat back to him with a, “Have a good day.” She exited for her stop, slightly cheerier than when she had begun.