Your head is tilted to the side, resting on the metal bar with strange smudges that you choose not to look into. It’s been a long day and you just need a little relaxation.
You drift off, the buzz of the train and rocking of the car eases you into a peaceful rest. You go to a place in your mind that you enjoy, settling on the imagery of your mother petting your head. Her nails graze your neck, her fingertips know how to handle your tangled ends. Goosebumps hover on skin as you hear her hum to you, her hands still twisting their way through the head of hair she knows so well.
Your mind comes to the front, you don’t want to miss your stop.
Eyes flutter open, yet the caressing hasn’t ceased.
And you find yourself sitting next to a homeless woman.
While her black streaked hands and yellow nails dart quickly from your split ends.