it was as though the storm had broken...all that seemed to be pointing one way went ascatter...the signs were either wrong, misread....or awaiting the right moment to manifest themselves in all their intensity...
even as i was sent to the largest and least secure station by myself, and with me feeling the apprehension due to my never having really been there sufficiently to develop any sense of protocol, the expectation of all things terrible transpiring never really did take shape.
sure, there was the one person who, absolutely shit-faced proceeded to piss in an open floor vent as i stood at the top of the staircase calling down on him to not do so, incapable at that vantage point to stop him... i warned him that i would call the dreaded security force, even while he reeled upwards on the escalator, passing me and almost literally bouncing off the walls as he ambled toward the train platform. i'd alreadt decided that, as long as he stayed quietly on the platform before boarding a train i'd not report him...later, as he came back into the station i did refuse him to stay in-when he asked why i reminded him he'd already pissed once-and that was more than enough...he wanted to know why there were no trains and i told him that there was a delay due to an 'incident' at the end station...a few more pleasantries and away he went back to the platform.
then there was the young woman, Sara(?) who came to me with worry written all over her....she was looking for her friend who'd disappeared...a young 19 year old with 2 lip rings, slightly drunk but more than that, upset...he simply got up and walked out of where they'd all been...he with a rather troubled life according to her. it was obvious there was a connect between them and she simply wanted him back, with the knowledge that he wasn't in any trouble...
i assured her that if he were to enter the station i would have him contact her immediately-i didn't have a pen to write down her number, but he did have it...
the station was filthy-in the end i was unable to do it justice entirely-time constraints... there was a bench where an anonymous person's life possessions were strewn on and around it...like an homage to him, i left it alone... let others make the pilgrimage to him and either reflect upon it, or cast him down by tossing his life away without regard. it wasn't in my job description to act as a 'god'....
after doing what i could there, i boarded a train to meet the others-it was then that i thought about the 'incident' at somerset...mere blocks away from my first assignment, and mere time spans too, from when this 'incident' occurred...what was it this time...another stabbing?....a suiciding....? it wasn't mechanical-they use other terms for those... one could present a compelling case however, that given the regularity of this almost ritualistic 'shedding of blood' taking place, that it too was by now 'mechanical'...
later, as i recounted the story of the 'pisser' someone asked me if he was young-to which i said no, but then, wondering about her question i asked about this young person she'd assumed it might be...did he have 2 lip rings...was he about my height...all my questions being responded to affirmatively... at least he was alive and doing fine i thought...Sara will be relieved...were it that'd had a pen though...
