a guy facin me is lookin slightly to my right. "you alright?" he asks someone that clearly isn't me. my eyes were in my book and i figured if anything was wrong, i'd find out about it soon enough.
after readin another sentence or two, i notice the guy is still lookin. a lady sitting near him is also lookin off to my right. "hello," she half-says/half-asks. i think maybe they're lookin past my row, so i look behind me. it becomes obvious they're lookin at the guy across the aisle from me.
"is he breathing? i don't think he's breathing," someone behind me says. i notice the guy everyone's lookin at has a catatonic look on his face, eyes glazed over. his shoulders don't look like they're movin up and down at all, makin me wonder if the guy behind me is right.
the woman snaps her fingers in front of his face. "hello," she asks again.
finally, i reach across the aisle and nudge the guy on his shoulder. he gives a start, looks over at me as everyone else breathes a sigh of relief and says, "huh? what?" not having any idea what's going on.
"people were concerned about you," i say.
"i was just sleepin," he says.
"your eyes were open," someone blurts out.
"yeah, my brothers used to fuck with me while i was sleepin so i learned how to keep my eyes open."
"half the train thought you were dead."
"nah. what stop is this?"
p.s. i thought this'd be the most noteworthy thing to happen on the blue line this day, but later, four girls get on and start detailing lesbian views on stripping, porn and the specific criteria for "stickin me with that shit."
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