Pressed Tightly

Getting on the subway was making Darren nervous. Earlier, his co-worker had a heart attack during lunch. He was only a mild acquaintance but they said hello every morning. Today was no different. Today was like any other day.

The heart attack must have been bad, because he died on the way to the hospital. Darren was feeling very introspective and started imagining his own demise.

What does it mean? Does life form its own impression? Do we pile up like sediment, pressed tightly between the weight of so many other lives?

At age forty-four he found himself asking so many questions that he had already asked himself a million times. Iterations upon iterations on the same themes. As he left the station, he looked around at life's glitter of clean barren streets, fast food chains, manicured trees and electricity.