Metro magic

The Chinese government spin continues in Tibet and now Xinjiang. First the Tibetans and now the Uyghurs. Han economics, heavy handed military police state and repression of human rights.

Here, you are sitting in a blue plastic chair in the metro. It is zooming along above ground through a gray raining morning - the mountains are hiding in clouds, fast moving white above green and down along rocky forested slopes.

You see mosques, spires. You see out. Passengers are, (except for for two cheerful talkative women close to you) cold, distant, lost, bored, going somewhere important. It must be important or else they'd be home, asleep, dreaming inside their magic.

Then, suddenly the metro track slopes down and edges of concrete blur, as the trees disappear and the sky edge becomes indistinct, sliding into darkness as florescent light becomes quick and natural sliding flashes of light
on steel tracks with a long stretch of black
click clack then the station immediately with tiles,
a machine holding bagged sweets.
Women in scarves, eyes downward, heavy territorial shoes,
gripping plastic bags;
a green and yellow uniformed man with a broom
pushes everything
in front of him and the metro automatic voice calls out a place.
Doors open - people in, people out. Doors close.

Enjoy the ride. You're only on it once.

Peace.