Post by jane on Oct 21, 2006 19:35:27 GMT -5
I wrote this for a story club I am in....its one of the first things I have every written for fun, and I am pretty happy with it for the most part....I know I didn't do a good job of keeping the whole 'from the viewpoint of a subway seat' going, and Rosie seems a little too good towards the end...what do you guys think of it?
oh, and I was going to write some other stories so it would be 'the subway tales' but I never got around to it. I still might someday.
The Subway Tales
I am a subway seat. People sit and rest on me as they are shuttled to and from their various jobs and happenings. I enjoy my job. I enjoy it very much for I love people. They fascinate me. Truly, every person in this city has a story, and they are all different. That is what I love. I love the history a person brings with them when they plop their body on top of me. I love the differences between the stories and also the similarities. I love the people.
But what I love even more is to watch the people interact; to witness the influence people have on each other’s stories, and to see how in fifteen minutes of riding on a subway, a person’s story can change; for better or for worse. These are the stories I am going to share with you; the stories of change in a person’s heart or mind.
Rosie
He had been laid off. I could tell the moment I saw him walking towards me; a young man of about 35 years, with his head bent, staring hopelessly at the floor. I had seen many like him before, and I could tell he had a bad, bad case of the Whatamigonnado’s.
As he sat down and leaned back against me, I could feel his heavy heart beating in his chest. He looked out the window at the rain hammering against it with more sadness in his young grey eyes than I could bear.
He sat and stared until he realized someone was talking to him. He looked up.
“Excuse me, sir,” a happy-faced brown-haired girl sporting a school uniform and a backpack was saying, “Do you mind if I sit here?” She pointed to the seat to my right.
The man slowly moved his head an inch to the left and then an inch to the right. The girl smiled and sat down. She turned to him and said, “Don’t you just love it when it rains? I think rain is so romantic.”
The man said nothing.
“It’s funny though,” the girl continued thoughtfully. “In movies, it always starts to rain when something sad or bad happens, but whenever it looks like it’s going to rain outside, I feel like jumping up and down with joy. Rain makes me feel so good inside. Do you like the rain?”
Again, the man slowly shook his head.
“Oh, well, I guess some people just prefer sunshine to rain. I don’t get it cause rain makes me so happy. It’s like how some people like Pepsi more than Coke. I just don’t understand why.” The girl rambled on.
The man wasn’t sure if he quite agreed with this comparison, but did not feel compelled to contradict it.
“One time, my brother Jim put two straws in his Coke can and then put the straws up his nose and inhaled! So the Coke went up his nose and then he snorted it back out and started choking and his face got all red. It was sort of scary but WAY funny.” The girl started laughing, amused by this memory.
The man just stared and wondered what made the girl so chatty and cheery.
“Boys do the craziest things, don’t ya think? Do you have any kids?” The girl looked at him hopefully.
The man nodded
“Yeah?” the girl said, smiling. “You’re lucky. Sometimes, I feel bad for people with no kids. I think of how much they’re missing out on. I can’t wait till I get married and have kids. I can’t wait to watch them grow up. Don’t you think it’s amazing how fast babies grow?”
The man thought of his chubby one-year old waiting for him at home.
“So, what are your kids’ names?” the girl continued.
The man slowly turned to look at the girl and inquired, “How come you talk so much?”
“Oh, I just like to make friendly conversation, that’s all,” answered the girl, not at all bothered by his question, just happy the silent man had decided to talk.
“Why? Why do you need to make conversation with me?” questioned the man, a tad bit annoyed but also a little curious.
“Well, sir,” began the girl, hoping she wasn’t upsetting the man. “I didn’t really need to. I chose to because I thought you looked a little sad and I thought maybe I could cheer you up.”
“Why did you want to cheer me up? You could have let me go on being gloomy.” The man was puzzled by the girl’s caring.
“I’ll tell you why,” said the girl, ready, willing, and glad to share her story. “I once asked my mother why there were so many unhappy people in the world. She said for a lot of reasons. When I still seemed frustrated she told me, ‘Rosie, when there is something about the world that you don’t like, don’t sit there and wonder at it. Try to change it.’ ‘You mean try to make all the people in the world happy? Can I really do that?’ I asked. ‘No, honey,’ she said. ‘I’m afraid not. But you can make some of them happy.’ ‘How?’ I asked, and she said ‘By smiling and being a friendly, cheery person. And then maybe they will see what they are missing out on, because happiness is a choice, dear, and don’t you ever forget that.’ And I haven’t. I try my best to make others choose happiness.”
“What about when something bad happens?” asked the man, amazed by the young girl’s display of joy in doing good. “Don’t you ever get sad?”
“Oh, of course I’m sad sometimes,” replied the girl. “But I try to take an optimistic view on life, and remember that I have my loving family, which is more than a lot of people have.”
The two sat in silent thought while the subway slowed to a stop. Then the man turned to the girl and said, “To answer your question, I have three little girls at home. Their names are Gracie, Caroline, and Anna.” He then stood up and smiled at her, saying, “Thank you, dear girl, the world needs more people like you.” And the man, still smiling, headed towards the door of the subway with a much lighter and happier heart than when he had got on.
oh, and I was going to write some other stories so it would be 'the subway tales' but I never got around to it. I still might someday.
The Subway Tales
I am a subway seat. People sit and rest on me as they are shuttled to and from their various jobs and happenings. I enjoy my job. I enjoy it very much for I love people. They fascinate me. Truly, every person in this city has a story, and they are all different. That is what I love. I love the history a person brings with them when they plop their body on top of me. I love the differences between the stories and also the similarities. I love the people.
But what I love even more is to watch the people interact; to witness the influence people have on each other’s stories, and to see how in fifteen minutes of riding on a subway, a person’s story can change; for better or for worse. These are the stories I am going to share with you; the stories of change in a person’s heart or mind.
Rosie
He had been laid off. I could tell the moment I saw him walking towards me; a young man of about 35 years, with his head bent, staring hopelessly at the floor. I had seen many like him before, and I could tell he had a bad, bad case of the Whatamigonnado’s.
As he sat down and leaned back against me, I could feel his heavy heart beating in his chest. He looked out the window at the rain hammering against it with more sadness in his young grey eyes than I could bear.
He sat and stared until he realized someone was talking to him. He looked up.
“Excuse me, sir,” a happy-faced brown-haired girl sporting a school uniform and a backpack was saying, “Do you mind if I sit here?” She pointed to the seat to my right.
The man slowly moved his head an inch to the left and then an inch to the right. The girl smiled and sat down. She turned to him and said, “Don’t you just love it when it rains? I think rain is so romantic.”
The man said nothing.
“It’s funny though,” the girl continued thoughtfully. “In movies, it always starts to rain when something sad or bad happens, but whenever it looks like it’s going to rain outside, I feel like jumping up and down with joy. Rain makes me feel so good inside. Do you like the rain?”
Again, the man slowly shook his head.
“Oh, well, I guess some people just prefer sunshine to rain. I don’t get it cause rain makes me so happy. It’s like how some people like Pepsi more than Coke. I just don’t understand why.” The girl rambled on.
The man wasn’t sure if he quite agreed with this comparison, but did not feel compelled to contradict it.
“One time, my brother Jim put two straws in his Coke can and then put the straws up his nose and inhaled! So the Coke went up his nose and then he snorted it back out and started choking and his face got all red. It was sort of scary but WAY funny.” The girl started laughing, amused by this memory.
The man just stared and wondered what made the girl so chatty and cheery.
“Boys do the craziest things, don’t ya think? Do you have any kids?” The girl looked at him hopefully.
The man nodded
“Yeah?” the girl said, smiling. “You’re lucky. Sometimes, I feel bad for people with no kids. I think of how much they’re missing out on. I can’t wait till I get married and have kids. I can’t wait to watch them grow up. Don’t you think it’s amazing how fast babies grow?”
The man thought of his chubby one-year old waiting for him at home.
“So, what are your kids’ names?” the girl continued.
The man slowly turned to look at the girl and inquired, “How come you talk so much?”
“Oh, I just like to make friendly conversation, that’s all,” answered the girl, not at all bothered by his question, just happy the silent man had decided to talk.
“Why? Why do you need to make conversation with me?” questioned the man, a tad bit annoyed but also a little curious.
“Well, sir,” began the girl, hoping she wasn’t upsetting the man. “I didn’t really need to. I chose to because I thought you looked a little sad and I thought maybe I could cheer you up.”
“Why did you want to cheer me up? You could have let me go on being gloomy.” The man was puzzled by the girl’s caring.
“I’ll tell you why,” said the girl, ready, willing, and glad to share her story. “I once asked my mother why there were so many unhappy people in the world. She said for a lot of reasons. When I still seemed frustrated she told me, ‘Rosie, when there is something about the world that you don’t like, don’t sit there and wonder at it. Try to change it.’ ‘You mean try to make all the people in the world happy? Can I really do that?’ I asked. ‘No, honey,’ she said. ‘I’m afraid not. But you can make some of them happy.’ ‘How?’ I asked, and she said ‘By smiling and being a friendly, cheery person. And then maybe they will see what they are missing out on, because happiness is a choice, dear, and don’t you ever forget that.’ And I haven’t. I try my best to make others choose happiness.”
“What about when something bad happens?” asked the man, amazed by the young girl’s display of joy in doing good. “Don’t you ever get sad?”
“Oh, of course I’m sad sometimes,” replied the girl. “But I try to take an optimistic view on life, and remember that I have my loving family, which is more than a lot of people have.”
The two sat in silent thought while the subway slowed to a stop. Then the man turned to the girl and said, “To answer your question, I have three little girls at home. Their names are Gracie, Caroline, and Anna.” He then stood up and smiled at her, saying, “Thank you, dear girl, the world needs more people like you.” And the man, still smiling, headed towards the door of the subway with a much lighter and happier heart than when he had got on.
;D