It's funny how time and distance change you, the roads you take don't always lead you home.
Dis betch got me up.
Skinned elbows, bruised hips. I have yet to share the stupidity of this story with all, but it is time. I know this much–time heals all wounds, elbows and embarrassment.
When a white woman falls off a moving train in a station, the world stops for a minute. How do I know this? Well I was that woman. Running for our train as it slowly pulled away. Few of us were able to pull ourselves onto the speeding cars. The early morning chill of dawn whipping at our hair before we realized, we were alone. I was alone. My fellow train hoppers had gotten off when they realized we had separated I stood, slowly watching my group get smaller. Alone on a five AM train.
In the second and a half it took me to step down off the chugging train, speed increased. Unable to gauge how quickly the train was leaving the station, I stepped down. Down to my group, down to safety, down to the ground. Literally. I lay on my side. Physics, I didn’t understand, laid me on my side.
“Madame, Mam, Madame” was all I heard as I opened my eyes, Indian men running to me, my friends confused, staring, unsure. I heard the brakes of the train down the track, the captain calling to us. I stood and walked, shameful, to the train car. Leaving the crowd of concerned bystanders on the platform. My head and arm throbbing as I sat for an hour, counting down the minutes until my bed and I would reunite.