Every morning the same stale mood looms over this familiar train car. Passengers stare blankly at smart phones or news papers. In this place, to break the silence would be almost certainly felt as disturbing behavior causing countless anonymous strangers to project a distaste not easily dismissed. 
 As I sit and ponder the varied lives before me one man catches my attention. He is dressed in a dark blue pea-coat  wearing a monochromatic scarf tied loosely around his neck. His feet crossed and tucked neatly below his seat and his hands clench his phone sitting between his lap. A set of head phones to match his scarf are plugged in as he gently sways his head to the beats, eyes closed. The movement is so subtle it would be easily missed for it not been for my random fixation upon him. The harsh bite of the cold stings as automatic doors openly briefly to the bitter January winds. I bundle up my jacket a little tighter, he seemed unaware of the world that surrounds him. A neutral expression occupies his bearded face as wind and snow blow in from the outside. The phone in his hand suddenly lights up, the swirling logos signal that his phone has died. As I watched I waited to see if his body would animate more as the cold seemed powerless to motivate it. However, oddly enough his head stayed swaying as if nothing had changed. A silent beat of greater importance moved him now, for the world of our train car seemed unworthy of occupying the consciousness. I understood now that the drudgery of the train was just as much my fault as it was his. As it was to all who allow the awkward to overwhelm our human nature to interact with the world around us. He chose to match his beat to the world of his mind rather than walk against the current of our commuter defense emotions. He sat there now in a blissful silent meditation, head still swaying.
 As the train began reaching its final stops the car quickly emptied leaving me alone with my occupant. The doors closed and his head suddenly turned. He tilted his chin with his hand and a bellowed crack emanated from his neck. His eyes opened and I could see the large dark colored iris of his eyes. For a moment our eyes met and a slight smile followed by a gentle nod abolished my focus. No longer was he within the silence but back here in the train, a commuter once more. He stood up and walked to the door as the train continued to sway and hurdle towards its next destination. My stop was the last, and the next upon us was the one before it. My curiosity nearly overwhelmed me as I stood to my feet, considering possibly getting off with the man. However, my character manged to retain a bit of decency and allowed me to reconsider the act and ponder again about the bitter cold. I could see now that he was tall and his boots clicked as he tapped his foot to the prevailing silent beat of his headphones. The train stopped and the doors opened. He walked onto the mezzanine and pulled the headphones from his ears and hastily wrapped them into a knot.  I could catch a glimpse through our car window in time to see the man placing the head phones in a zipper pocket on the breast of his coat, snow and wind blowing all around a dark haired hat-less head. As he passed the last view I could hear his boots on the concrete and see his hands in his pockets. As he left, a string of words floated to the lips of my mind. There we go into the cold infinity, free in our minds from the rules of worlds that fight to meet us there.