Her knuckles were white. The pole beneath her fingers was warm and moist from her sweat. The other hand gripped just as tightly to a small suitcase, plain black. Her gaze jumped nervously among the other passengers, never staying for more than a second on a single person. Occasionally she would just stare at one of the advertisements on the walls. She squished her lips together so that they were almost none existent. Her small tongue flicked out at intervals, wetting skin that was dry from anxiety. The train stopped at a popular destination and people piled off. Almost every seat was empty, but she made no move to sit. She wore headphones, but her body did not imitate any beat or rhythm. Blah blah blah blah blah.

Karen hit the print key. The small paragraph was quickly ejected from the printer. It landed scrunched up in the bin a second later. A waste of paper, but it made her feel better to actually throw it away rather than delete it. Not that she ever deleted anything. There was still terrible ten-year- old teenage poetry in some long lost file. Most of it, she would never look at again, but someday she hoped she would finish something. Something amazing. She pushed the keyboard away from her and slouched back as far as she could into the chair.

“Whatever!” She huffed at the screen. This was a regular activity now. She would sit at the computer, type out a paragraph or two, and then she would decide that she hated it. She had been particularly excited about this idea. The pictures she had in her head had been haunting her all day, making her want to write it. But, as usual, nothing came of it. She looked at the lines for a last time on the computer. “Too dramatic, completely disconnected, pretentious. This then this then this. Shite! And who's narrating? I don't know. I don't know anything!” She thumped the shut down button harder than she should have, and the computer whined. It often made noises, but nothing quite as heart wrenching as that. Karen looked at it suspiciously. “Fuck you.”

The cup of tea she made calmed her down enough that she did not blame the computer anymore. It was only a machine. It did not really deserve to suffer. A few presses of the 'on' button revealed that it had given up on her too. At least as far as her expertise were concerned. She tried turning it off at the switch and then back on again. Nothing. She took a deep breath and gave the hard drive a death glare. Nothing. The overenthusiastic kick she gave it next did nothing either, except make her feel better and leave her lying on the floor.

She lay there laughing. It had been a long time since she had kicked anything. Too long. It surprised even her when the laughing turned to sobs and tears dribbled down her temples into her hair. Her limbs felt weightless and numb sprawled out on the floor. She could even lift her arm to wipe away the tears. The front door, somewhere beneath her, opened and closed softly, and then footsteps up the stairs.

“Honey, I'm home!” It had become a joke early in their marriage, but it did not make her laugh now. His footsteps trailed off into the bedroom, where there was the thud of his briefcase and suit jacket. She heard him potter about for a few minutes – changing into his jeans just like everyday. “Honey?” His feet, now bare, left the bedroom and it was harder for her to tell where he had gone. She did not want to be found lying, crying, on the study floor, but she could not bring herself to move either. “Honey, are you ok?” She opened her eyes and he was leaning over her. All  floppy blonde hair and big brown eyes, cute as the day they met. He bent down further to kiss her on the forehead, and she found the will to move.

“Yeah, fine. Just had an argument with the computer. It's fuc-, um, broken. I think everything's gone.”

“We can get the files recovered. I know a guy. Been meaning to get a new computer lately anyway.” She stood and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, placing a small peck on his lips.

“Nah, I don't think I want any of it back. You get a laptop for yourself, yeah? I'll just borrow it for e-mail checking.” He grinned.

Blah blah blah blah blah. She stepped out of the sliding doors of the subway. The suitcase she carried chose that moment to burst. Everything in it spilled out, down the gap between the train and the platform, over the concrete, some of it back inside the carriage. The passengers on both sides looked at her, asking if she needed any help, some just pushing past regardless. She looked down at the things. It was really nothing. Nothing she could not live without. She did not know why she had brought it. Especially here of all places where none of it mattered. The platform officer started heading down from the other end, but she made her decision before he could get there. She looked at it all, shrugged, and walked off towards the exit.