Small Stuff

Small Stuff

By Adibah Abbas

Who notices?

The blips. The signs. The colours. The words.

Not the adolescent boys, who co-exist in their own virtual worlds,
Not the pretty young lady who made a beeline for the reserved seat
Not the old man clinging on to the pole bar.

Who notices?

“Please do not lean against the train door”
The symbols on the door.
The green arrows and the little man running to the right.
The $500 dollars in red.
The missing full-stops in the LCD displays that announce your destinations.

The windows that divide the 7 seats,
The speckled marbled floor,
The linear maps in 8 distinct colours and
6 hand bars in a set.

7 beeps before the door closes.
The hums and the screeches of the wheels on the tracks
The whoosh of the pressure gauge that opens and closes the doors.

Who notices?

Perhaps that day…
The group that sits and stares and glances and glares.

With pen in hand, they skim and scan every inch of the place
With new eyes
With tingling nerves
Finding joy in looking and seeing the small things.