So, tonight I took the train down to Manhattan to see an off-Broadway play that a close friend of mine was working on. On the return trip, around 11 pm at night, I heard the distinct sound of a woman sobbing several seats behind me in my train car. At first I thought my ears were playing tricks on me, but it was clear as day. High-pitched, breathy sobs, broken by bits of unintelligible, whimpering speech.

Nobody else nearby seemed to take notice of it, or if they did, didn't let on as such. I was tempted to get a look at her but decided it might be odd to do in front of everyone on a night train. I did eventually turn around and saw her sagging head hidden behind a seat back, with a few people nearby trying to reassure her. Sorta wished I was one of them. 

She got off at a stop an hour or so before mine, and I saw her exit the train. She was youngish, with streaked mascara and dark circles around her eyes, apologizing to everyone nearby. Never figured out exactly what set her off, but after she left the conductor cleared the rows of seats around hers and instructed the other passengers to move near the front of the car. I almost wonder if she became ill and soiled herself, or something similarly mortifying. Poor dear. 

Last edited by NeedHerSobs (November 11, 2016 7:07 am)