Bone supplies the words. I make up more rules. 250 words. I add a sort of theme based on one word. Tonight it was “scarce.”
July 1977
Janie was sweating. The subway from Queens hadn’t been air conditioned, had contained many people from all different countries who apparently ate food that left odors on their sweating skin that went to their shirts or blouses.
Stinky un-air conditioned subway that had been stuck underground for half hour. Janie wanted to die. She arched her body onto the cool tiled subway wall, and looked at the filthy subway tile floor.
Janie thought about how pretty the subway tile would be if it wasn’t encrusted in many layers of black dirt. Damn subway, damn city, damn Son of Sam who wrote to Jimmy Breslin, and targeted long haired brunette girls like her. Janie and her boyfriend lived on Dartmouth Street in Forest hills Gardens just a few blocks from a killing.
Tomorrow they were going to Springs, East Hampton until September. Brunette girls were becoming scarce in the city. Her boss had gladly agreed to give her extra time office in lieu of pay. Janie reminded him of his daughter who was visiting friends in Greece at his insistence. How crazy was that? Every girl’s parents seemed to insist that they take time off from their jobs, even if they lived in Manhattan. Nobody felt safe.
It wasn’t 9 AM and the temperature was above 80. While Janie walked the four blocks two avenues to her overly air-conditioned office she wondered if he would ever be caught. This wasn’t the way she wanted an extended vacation.
248 Words
Pia, you had me holding my nose and wanting to go wash up, reading the description of the subway.
I agree. That first paragraph especially had me smelling onions and all sorts of nasty odors.
They really should powerwash that tile.
Nice work today, Pia — words well-spent. But, just so you know, you’ve gotten yourself kicked off the NYC Tourist Bureau again with this post.
The incredible thing to me, given your excellently evocative and super-accurate description of a NY subway during the “dog days,” is that people actually eat while riding on them. Ewww.
I once saw a guy, through the corner of my eye, eat an ice cream cone while standing next to me, in full “business” pose, in a men’s room. Shea Stadium. Mets fan. Figures.
Sage, TonyG–but did you like the story?
Al–the story took place in 1977 when subways were often not air conditioned, subways were a mess and there was a serial killer on the lose
The subways today are clean,and usually function well
😉 *Wink wink* Oh, Pia, I get it…
You forget to mention the oak-paneled stations with the crystal chandeliers… Oh, and don’t forget those free rush-hour back massages!
(You’re back on the Tourist Bureau. In fact, you’re President. So, you have to bring donuts to the meetings.)
Thanks Al just to be explanatory as I seem to be lacking in that department today
The word scarce made me think of scarce commodities, then the image of brunettes being scarce or trying to be scarce that summer popped into my head
To further clarify Son of Sam never killed in Manhattan where I did and do live
But I worked in Queens, and nobody knew where he would strike next so everybody was scared
No matter how hot future summers become that will always be the hottest to me. I didn’t have AC–didn’t usually need it or like it–and they were expensive
The city was at its nadir, but I will always remember that time with awe. Not just because it was my youth but because there were so many affordable things to do
Rabbit, rabbit! I’m off to see the roast, finally…
The words produce a kind of life of there own do they not.
What are you going to do for redesign/ clean-up?
I actually wound up on an unairconditioned subway car (do you call them cars?) from Manhattan to Coney Island in July.
And even that did not compare to the heat I felt today 🙂