The Sliding of Doors
If only rush hour could be slowed.
Nine million they say, yet here you stand.
The doors are open, but the briefcases swarm as moths to a flame.
No room.
What to do?
Can’t stare- too obvious.
Can’t say something- that would be weird.
Can’t do anything but wait.
Standing by the yellow line, awkwardly aware of your reflection in the glass.
Beep-beep-beep-beep-beep.
With a hiss and a thud the doors seal, and any chance of interaction is snatched.
The train jolts and begins to screech its way out of the station, and you look into a pair of eyes staring back.
She smiles, and is gone.
About the Creator
Joe O’Connor
New Zealander
English teacher
Short stories and poems📚
Please be honest- I would love your constructive feedback, as it's the only way I'll get better. Would rather it was pointed out so I can improve!
Currently writing James The Wonderer
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insight
Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab


Comments (1)
This would have earned a sub from me, except I'm already subscribed to you 😁