Matthew Hefferon — Speckled Floors

Who chose these speckled floors that cover every subway car?
Do the speckles have purpose?
Or did the person with the authority to choose subway car floors have an affinity for the aesthetic?

I really like sprinkles. Crumbs. Lint. Dandruff. Pretty much anything you could classify as a speck. I leave my lasting mark on this planet with speckled floors.

The more time I spend observing them, the more I approve of the decision. Identical patterns can get awfully boring. Too predictable. Lacking an unknown variable always makes things less appealing. But these floors! These speckled floors!

Arbitrarily placed paint chips on a solid background. The color free to choose where it prefers to rest. Now that is interesting. The lack of structure helps imperfections blend in. It's much harder to find a roach or street meat - or partly digested street meat, when you're less sure how the floor is supposed to continue. Fuck!

The man yells. He's dropped his beer. The tall boy bud heavy lay sideways on the speckled subway floor. The hoppy nectar chugs out of the cans' mouth. His liquid slowly starts sliding down the car with the motion of the train. A foamy dot leads the way, slowly picking up steam stopping a moment when the car jerks, then proceeding down its' line. The beer slowly passes by my feet. I wave and smile. Cheering it on. We enter the tunnel and take a small turn. The single lane sprouts branches out to the left, birthing new foamy leaders to pave their own way down the car. Some lines run out of steam and grab the caboose of a fellow rye river and follow the flow.

We raise our half empty cans to you, speckled floors. Thanks for taking all our shit, figurative & literal. Thanks for keeping us guessing. Thanks for supporting us through those nasuating commutes - and hiding our mistakes when we lose it. Thank you for being that unsung hero, fulfilling your purpose despite the many times you've been stepped on. Without you, we'd have no ground to stand on.