Riding MARTA is often a shared, silent energy.

Know that I notice you

And your journey.

I’m not wired to sit still on a subway, in my mental shield, making lists, to-do lists, grocery lists, wish lists, lists of

things unfinished, or even lists of victories and disappointments.

Instead, I just watch the journeys. Sometimes the journeys are tiring: The exhausted mother trying to comfort a

fussy, squirming toddler, who refuses to be soothed.

Sometimes the journeys are energizing: The gaggle of teenage girls bedecked in so much glitter and fringe,

riding to their first Taylor Swift concert. Exuberance gleaming from their eyes. And mouths.

Or the bunch of Falcons fans, yelling “Rise UP!” every time the train doors open or close. Even though they know

their team may likely be crushed on the field that afternoon.

See, I can’t sit still and make lists on the subway. I just enjoy the momentary bubble-stop of time. And watch

other people’s journeys.