The dawnlight was just beginning to leak over the far-off hills above the city. A tint of pink illuminated the tops of the trees. Below, the city in the valley was still shrouded in semi-darkness, streetlights still giving a glimmer before winking their last greeting to the rising sun.
Then the moment passed and the view changed. The metro train entered the tunnel, gliding down from the elevated tracks and their sweeping vistas into the bowels of the city. Thus it was, every morning, Monday through Friday, and select team-building Saturdays.
That view though, could buoy a man all day. Through conference calls, team meetings, and low sales metrics. And Jared, even through Jared, rambling on in the seat next to him.
While Jared prattled his latest humblebrag, Mike closed his eyes and re-imagined the vanished vista. The dawn of a not quite broken morning tinted everything like a watercolor painting. Quiet and perfect. In that moment the possibilities of the day were still pristine.
Serenity, even the tiny piece that he harvested each morning from the train window, had its downsides. People noticed. They asked him how he kept his cool.
They came to him for advice, the Yoda of the office. He hated other people’s problems, but his mother had raised him right. He didn’t have the heart to turn them away.
And it was happening again, right now.
“So what do you think, man?” Jared asked.
“What? Sorry, I was dozing,” Mike lied.
“I was telling you about Cynthia from Accounting. I want to take her sister to the company Christmas party. Will she be weird about it?”
Mike stared at him and blinked. This? This was what went on in the mind of supposedly the greatest salesman their company had seen in the last twenty years? The train jostled over a bump while Mike tried to formulate an answer.
“I don’t know how you do it, man.” Jared prattled on, not noticing Mike’s hesitation. “The women, they flock to you. You could have a different one every week, but you just make friends out of them all. Hey, what did Cynthia say about me when we broke up?”
“That’s been a while. A lot has happened since then.”
Mike was good at stalling. He practiced frequently with potential clients when they wanted technical data that he didn’t have and wouldn’t understand even if he did. He could hem and haw with the best of them, especially when office politics reared its ugly head.
“You’re so right. She probably doesn’t even remember that we were a thing last summer. You’re a genius! Thanks, man!” Jared’s grin faded as Mike stood. “This isn’t our stop.”
“I’m going to walk. Need some exercise.” Mike shook Jared’s hand, then patted his belly. Gotta lose those extra pounds I picked up over Christmas. “See you in the office.”
“Hey, I should probably exercise too.” Jared patted his ten-year-old, still flat belly. “Sometime I’ll come with you.” A hint of jealousy tinted his face. “Advice, exercise plans. You’ve got it all goin’ on.”
“Naw. I just need to stretch my legs.”
“Seriously, man. It’s a compliment. I want to be you when I grow up!”
“Right. Good luck with Cynthia’s sister.”
Mike slid out just before the train left. He headed up to street level, taking the stairs two at a time, ignoring the pounding in his chest. Maybe he’d catch a tiny glimpse of Nirvana peeking out between the buildings before his day settled irretrievably into the banal.
He strolled up the street, suddenly reluctant to get to the office early, much less on time. After grabbing coffee and a doughnut from a street vendor, he slowed his pace even more. Just as he took a huge bite of jelly-centered badness, the sun crested the hills, blasting his face.
The light felt like a benediction from a long-forgotten god uttering blessings in a language that he almost understood. This light was perfect, and that perfection chose him. Around him, fools scurried, missing their chance at a little miracle.
Perfect. Even better than the view from the train. This. This was paradise. Coffee, jelly doughnut, and ten minutes of peace in the sunshine before he started his day. A little slice of downtown paradise. Not even the honking of the taxi as he took his time going across the street could ruin his sugar-rush inflated mood.
Nirvana, indeed.
