The clock in front of me gives me the relieving news that the unbearable wait will soon come to an end. Down here the strong smell of dirty iron and old sweat invades my nostrils. I desperately try to grasp a sudden gust of fresh air coming from the rusty fan above my head. At a distance a roaring sound approaches, like a stampede in the jungle of concrete.
             5:06PM. The doors open and I try to get inside, but I see myself trapped amidst a horde of fierce beasts trying to catch the same pray. I elbow my way into the crowd and manage to get in.
             Once inside, I can not help but overhear the piercing voice of the old lady in brown at the end of the car, "Keep away, you, degenerate bastard!!". In a flick of a second the offender disappears, and so does the woman's wallet.
             A young boy in clothes many times his size is sunk in the vinyl seat in front of me. His worn sneakers neatly mended with duct tape, his long figers tapping to the rhythm of deafening sounds coming from his headphones., ignoring the glares of the other passengers. All of a sudden he looks ahead, as if trying to find a signal, and storms out, as quickly as a ray of light.
             The handsome young professional standing by my side says in a gentle voice,
             " Please Ms, go ahead, take the seat". As soon as I ease into my chair, the well dressed
             Middle aged man sitting next to me unfolds the Sunday paper, even though Sunday was two days ago. I sense my private tiny space invaded by the sports section. I can almost taste the inky sweat of the goal keeper in the picture.
             A little boy, holding his baby sister by the hand, goes seat by seat, leaving religious stamps on people's laps and a bitter taste of poverty and hunger in my mouth.
             Nobody seems to care much, too many kids beg for food these days. I wonder if they keep one of those stamps in their own pockets .As my mind immerses in deep thoughts, trying to figure out a solu...