i stopped breathing

 i stopped breathing on the train.

i wasn’t afraid. it was a Saturday in crisp February. the sun was slowly munching at the clouds in the sky, making the air outside warmer than usual. 

so i just stopped breathing.

i’d had a bagel that morning, the kind you can pop in your toaster. it felt like a good day. the wind whipped my hair as i strolled to the bus, chilly but not too chilly. it was warmer than usual. 

and yet i stopped breathing.

the woman across from me had a pair of rather large headphones on. i wondered what she may be listening to, as i listened to my own silence. quaint houses rushed by the windows, colorful and drab.

and then i stopped breathing on the train.