Staring at his phone while leaning on a pillar, he swipes up as he reads. Maybe it’s an email from a colleague, or a text from a friend, or his favorite site that passes itself off as news. In any case, his phone has his undivided attention. He never glances up, never looks around, never seems to notice that he is alone on the platform. The world doesn’t impinge on his experience.
I wonder if he is reading about how much the world has changed, about how the pandemic has changed the way we live and work. Perhaps he was reading at that moment how public transportation across the country is suffering from a decline in ridership, nobody commuting to and from work these days. I wonder what brings him out this evening, standing here on the platform, flicking his thumb along his phone and waiting for the train out of the city.
I suspect in some important ways his life hasn’t changed. He was probably alone even when the platform was filled with other commuters. Each of them likewise alone, lost in the virtual worlds they hold in their hands. Eleanor Rigbys.