The Censored Lady on the Subway

I saw this the other day on the tube, on my way home from work.

There was this lady in a nikab, cradling two children, a toddler and a baby. I was sitting on her right and we were both facing the opposite window. When the subway went into the underground tunnel, the lady's entire upper body - her head and shoulders - were swallowed up in the black reflection. She assimilated into the pitch black darkness. Even the outlines were barely there, almost entirely gone.

Looking into the opposite window, I could see wires and the unfinished, rough fieldstone inline of the tunnel swooshing by in the opposite direction at subway speed, with flowy black arms coming out of it, cradling drowsy children. I could not see her head in the reflection, it physically disappeared, blended into the background; its existence could only be realistically assumed, or rather extrapolated.

It barely looked human.

It was one of those rare, poignant moments where reality transcends metaphor and it leaves you gaping and lost for words.

It was as if the lady was censored. In real life. By a rare coincidence of physical laws and light show, her identity was bleeped, and the only part of her that existed in our plane was the part responsible for taking care of the children.

The censored lady on the subway. Try forgetting this.

Martian Child (2007)

"Dennis, can I just say one last thing about Mars? - which may be strange coming from a Science-Fiction writer - But right now, you and me here, put together entirely of atoms, sitting on this round rock with a core of liquid iron, held down by this force that seems to trouble you, called gravity, all the while spinning around the sun at 67,000 miles an hour and whizzing through the milky way at 600,000 miles an hour in a universe that very well may be chasing its own tail at the speed of light; And amidst all this frantic activity, fully cognizant of our own eminent demise - which is our own pretty way of saying we all know we're gonna die - We reach out to one another. Sometimes for the sake of vanity, sometimes for reasons you're not old enough to understand yet, but a lot of the time we just reach out and expect nothing in return.

Isn't that strange?

Isn't that weird?

Isn't that weird enough?

The heck do ya need to be from Mars for?"