short story

My Subway Stories – NY Tales from the Underground part 14


The stress and anxiety of the election seemed to still be in the air this morning as I found myself in a Brooklyn subway. I boarded the first car of the Q train and saw my friend Rasheeda sitting there smiling when she noticed me. I was glad that we had the subway car to ourselves.

“What a way to start my morning finding out that Donald Trump won the presidency of the United States.” I said, after kissing her on the cheek. “This is crazy, but I am so happy that this election is over.”

“Oh my God, I am so sad.” Rasheeda expressed. “What the fuck? I cannot believe that wildman is the new elected president. What is going on? The city is so quiet. 9/11, switch it around and it is 11/9. Many Americans are mourning over the news of President-elect Trump. May peace be with us all.”

“You’re right. I feel like the city is in mourning. The energy is gone, it is raining, and people are walking around stuck on mute. Early this morning, Donald Trump’s face was displayed on the Empire State Building as the 45th President.”

“I am very sad. The weather doesn’t help. I wanted to call out!” Rasheeda replied.

“Yesterday, I worked the poll for 15 hours at a school in East Harlem. I stood most of the time and my legs were killing me. I directed and helped 850 people at my scanner. The traffic was crazy! I couldn’t wait for the day to be over. My bed was calling me.”

“Wow, you had a long day. I was thinking about you, too. You’ll recover soon.”

“Yeah, I had a good sleep. Thank God, for the extra hour!” I smiled. “I needed it.”

Rasheeda shook her head and said, “It is amazing that a privileged white man is rewarded in this country for being a racist, xenophobic, homophobic, a misogynist and sexual predator.Unbelievable!”

The subway train slowed and stopped at a station. The metallic doors slid open; a sobbing brown-haired mother and daughter boarded, the doors closed and the train proceeded to move. Deep down, I knew they were in emotional distress over Donald Trump’s presidential victory. The sight of them crying on the train made me wish that they help elect the country’s first female president and prove that a woman could be anything that a man can be.

The subway ride was uneventful and thankfully we didn’t encounter any train traffic. Rasheeda and I found our way out of the 57th Street–Seventh Avenue subway station lost in a haze of uncertainty. As we both walked up the street, we had the same question in mind… What’s Next?


By Shamarie Knight, 9th Nov 2016


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