Bodies squeezed through the train doors as they opened to the central metro station. The day's workers, tired and spent, hurried to claim seats for their journey home. From experience most would go only a stop or two. I was always there until the end of the line.
I found a group of two seats vacant, and sat down in the one nearest the window. Usually that meant I would not be disturbed for most of my journey home. Maybe I would have someone next to me for a stop or two. And often it would be another girl, which I didn't mind so. But this time a man sat down next to me, and spread his legs until they were rubbing up against mine next to him. It had, of course, happened before. But usually then the men would ask for permission to sit next to me, and sit politely in a way to give me the space I needed. This man, perhaps because was a foreigner - and not used to the new customs.
I was definitely annoyed. His entire physical existence dominated mine. He was much taller than me. In fact even when sitting he must have been a head and a half taller than I was, and I started to feel a little trapped between him and the wall. His smell forced itself upon me. Even then I couldn't tell you if it was a bad smell, it was just exhaustingly present. Like when you visit someone else's house and the whole of it smells different to what you are used to. Foreign.
