Tracking Passengers

“Oh, it must be so great commuting by train! You can read,” people say, “and you can work!” Yeah, but I’m busy. Going home to San Clemente, I’ve got to eavesdrop on the clique of familiar strangers that stops bantering each time a cell phone rings so they can all chime “Hello” in sync with its unwitting owner. And in the morning, there’s an affair to monitor. As the 7:29 rolls into Irvine, a man gives his pudgy wife a goodbye peck. Moments later, as he watches the train pull away, she’s in her usual seat, smoothing her skirt under the admiring gaze of a neckless man who boards in San Juan Capistrano. She pets his houndstooth sport coat while he says things that make her glow. When the conductor calls, “Norwalk,” off they go together, leaving me to my book.