Written by

Ryan Adams – Damn, Sam (I Love A Woman That Rains)

In the carriage of a train on her way to the outskirts of the city, she thumbs through the pages of a discarded newspaper and leans her head on the rattling window pane. BUSINESS. flick. HOMEOWNER. flick. CAREERS. flick. ENTERTAINMENT. flick. All the seats on the train were taken but for one where a sizable tear in the upholstery had warded people away, because sitting on a damaged seat is a reflection on your character.


5:54am. The timetable said the bus would arrive at 5:58am. 4 minutes. 4 minutes or a 30-minute wait for the next bus and the clouds were ominously arm-in-arm overhead. “Where you going, lovely?” squealed some woman, hunched, homeless, from a mangy bench. “Far away,” he shouted, mid-stride.


Pulling into the station, she waited for the rest to shuffle past her before getting up. She hated that awkward standstill of courtesy. A man staring aimlessly fixed his gaze on her, mumbled something with the word Love in it, and smiled. She pretended not to hear him. Ambling down the stairs and fumbling through her pockets for her ticket, she worried – for the umpteenth time – about the turnstiles malfunctioning and crushing her thighs like a crab whose intestines were made mostly of metal and shredded train tickets.


6:01am. He waited for the bus.

[Pay for his heartbreak.]

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