The Spartan

by solaris2001

The bells rang and the doors slid open and the young man stumbled in through the hot gates across the platform and dropped hard into the first seat in the empty car at the rear of the dark ‘L’ train. Sliding back in the rigid chair and leaning his cheek against the hot, smeared window, he clung to the tarnished gold watch in his shaking hand, pressing his wet belly hard with the other. I held them off, he gasped. He raised the watch up before his eyes to see his reflection dimly flashed in front of the motionless hands.