Commute Stories

As I paid for my usual coffee, Eva Andrea, the ever-cheerful barista, greeted me with her usual smile and wished me a journey that was anything but. Her playful comment brought a smile to my face, and I thanked her, preparing to face the notorious Drammensbanen—a railroad that seemed to be writing its own saga: Commuter’s Hell. I stepped onto the platform, and there she was—the R10 to Lillehammer. Being on time was no rea...

It was a typical Friday afternoon commute on the interstate. It was 4:00 pm, and all five eastbound lanes were bumper-to-bumper, stop-and-go at 20mph. Scott looked at his iPhone GPS map and read that he still had sixty-three miles to his house, and the estimated drive time was two hours and sixteen minutes. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he said aloud to no one in his car. “This is usually an hour drive with no traffic.” H...

It was one of those days. One of those very long days. It droned on endlessly in my cubicle at work, every hour more stressful than the one before. I was an invisible cog in my company’s wheel, although one that everyone seemed to depend on. I needed an escape. The work day finally finished. I decided to enjoy a well-deserved subtle escape on the subway ride home. I ducked into the bathroom near my cubicle, pulled down my...

“Why haven’t you ever hit on me?” Her words caught me completely off guard. Chloé and I were both juniors at the university. We met in high school, and our families were close friends. We’ve always been more like cousins, but never kissing cousins. Chloé is a gorgeous blonde. She’s very social and outgoing. She’s the girl every other girl wants to be friends with and every guy wants to fuck. She has her pick of both. My f...