He focuses his eyes along the platform it approaches, surveying the crowd of blurry-eyed morning transients awaiting it's opening doors. He dresses head to toe in shades of an inconspicuous grey,
a camouflage,
save a black hat that blends with his hair, a pair of pristinely white gloves, and a neon yellow vest, several sizes too small for his stout, round, physique. He keeps an eye out, gently pushes the overflowing crowd into the train's closing doors with his white gloves and a satisfied expression.
The doors close.
The engines resume.
The train departs.
He aligns the cuffs if his jacket, smooths the surface of his gloves, allows his back to hunch as he stares to the ground and sighs.
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