Greg, bad day on the subway

"Fuck! Fucking fuck!"

His car was not turning on. Right on this day. Right on this fucking day. He had worked for weeks on this presentation.

Now he had to find another way to get to the office on time. On the other side of the city. He went to his phone to call a taxi. Black screen. No fucking way.

Well, there was one other fucking way. And he hated it.

Greg tried turning the keys again for a good measure but it was starting to get too late. He had no other choices.

"Fucking subway!"

He mumbled as he started walking to the nearest underground entrance.

Greg hated the fucking subway. He didn't work his ass of to get the sort of job he had so he could pass forty minutes of his time surrounded by loud people he couldn't care less about occupying his personal space. And you never knew if the trains were on time, with the stupid vague directions and announcements, or he could end in a car with some poor fucking homeless guy that you could smell from miles away. Or worse. Performers.

He made some calculations, he could get to work fifteen minutes late if he managed to take the first train possible and never stopped. He should have time to take coffee on the go and drink it on the ride. He looked around and found a small general store. Five minutes later he was on the stairs for the underground, hot cup in hand.

Oh, fuck. reaching the tracks he could hear the sound of violin from a distance. "Not a fucking performer..." He took a sip of coffee to try and stay calm through the situation. He swore he had put sugar in it. Why was it so fucking bitter?

On the side of the railroad what looked like an older woman was playing a sad melody on a tiny violin. Her form was framed by two big sets of dragon wings and you could see a tail coming out of her red dress. Her arms, moving gently up and down the violin, were covered in dark scales. Some people were kind enough to leave some dollar bills on the case in front of her. She smiled at everyone passing. Greg swore she was now looking at him directly in the eyes.

Why would she do that? Was she expecting something? Well she could go fuck herself.

He heard the sound of the train coming so he decided to get rid of this fucking coffee in the quickest way possible. He took the plastic lid of the cup and poured the hot liquid in the violin case. That would show her not to even dare look at him. She was beneath him.

As he entered the train he heard the voice of the woman screaming at him. He was smiling.