First, a disclaimer: The people I describe are real people I see on my daily commute, but the stories related here are entirely fictional (to the best of my knowledge).
This blog was born out of being pushed around by irritated strangers in busy Washington, DC Metro stations. It occurred to me that the offending commuters I write off as self-important might be in a rush because someone they love is heading to the emergency room, or they’re late for a life-changing interview…or they just really need to find a bathroom. Whatever the reason, how would the brief intersections of our existence — the seconds upon which I base my entire perception of those individuals — be different if I knew their stories?
C.S. Lewis wrote, “You have never met a mere mortal.” This is largely why this blog exists: to help me exercise my creative muscles, but also hopefully to spin tales that highlight the mere immortality all around us even in the ordinary places like a Metro car. Stories can weave more beauty and hope into the way of things. Every single person you see comes with a history, a context, a beating heart that will seek to help or harm the others it encounters. How would our commutes, our interactions, and our relationships be different if we knew the stories represented by each commuter?