I knew I had to stop him. "Think! think woman!" I reached into my satchel and brought out a greasy brown paper bag from earlier this afternoon. I had a sandwich while waiting for my oil change. It was tasty. Black forest ham, brie, tomato, red onion and a dollop of humus rolled snugly in a whole wheat wrap. I smelled the bag and thought fondly of my lunch. A warm, limp dill pickle awaited my desperate grasp.
I climbed down onto the subway tracks. Desperate measures for love. The tunnel was thick with emptiness, no one saw me, all too consumed with their own thoughts and what awaited them in their homes at the end of the day. I wedged the pickle in the southbound tracks, hoping this would stop the train. A horrible crash would occur. The local news would be all over this one! He would then have to know now how much I love him.
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