Bodies hurtling through time

The underground train doors open and then close behind her. She's in the heat and rumble now. Swinging and lurching through city tunnels. Then silence. A swoosh. The train doors slide open. She's flowing out now. Up and through. Propelled along. Then daylight. Sidewalks slip by. Bodies float aside. She falls into a room. The walls hug her. The city waits outside the door. Beyond the walls. She stands in an open space. Beneath and in front of her a long carpeted stairway. Her heartbeats in the silence. Her breath echoes. A shiver passes through her body now. She twitches. Regains her composure. Up the stairs. Along the wooden passageway. To a window. A silent city scene. Filtered through glass and net curtaining. She watches. Waits. Dimly at first but steadily louder an aeroplane's roar far overhead. She imagines herself sitting in a window seat looking down at the city below. Gone. Then the room returns. The city again around her. Surrounding her. Through the window. A taxi ferries by. The driver taps on the accelerator with minute movements of leg and foot muscle. He pulls on the wheel. Leans into the turn. Pushes down steadily on the accelerator. A tunnel of city shopdoors blurs by. Cars approach from the front and disappear out the back. A red light ahead. Pedestrians cross a road. Bodies weave into and around each other. Then separate out and away again. The taxi driver watches their movements from behind his windshield. Then a pause. A flashing green light. And he's pulled ahead. Further into the maze of concrete, glass and street. Losing himself around corners. Under bridges. Over speed bumps. More traffic lights. Past city trees. Clouds glide past above. Reflected below. Dogs bark in yards. Cats scuttle low. Birds fly high.

Bodies hurtling through time.