It Was All A Dream

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Mattie stepped back away from the platform as the eastbound Long Island Rail Road train pulled into Jamaica Station in Queens on Track 8. Her long thick black hair was pulled into a ponytail and held in place by a white scrunchie. Mattie was a looker standing 5 feet 6 inches tall, on a slim 135 pound frame with her weight distributed proportionately in all the right places. Being of Puerto Rican and Haitian descent, her complexion was light but island exotic.

She wore a black bodysuit, baggy guess jeans and black Timberland boots. Dark sunglasses covered her slightly slanted eyes and her demeanor gave off the impression she was not to be fucked with. She was on her way to work in Commack, Long Island following an afternoon of stress relieving shopping. If there was one thing that was guaranteed to help her deal with life’s tensions, it was her love for shoe shopping.

As the door to the train slid open, she took one last long drag off her Newport and tossed it to the platform. Mattie received various looks of disapproval due to the loud volume of her headphones as she made her way onto the train and down the aisle searching for a seat. She could care less. Life’s harsh realities had made her a rebel at a young age and played largely in her outward emanation of arrogance.

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