Ema said she was leaving. For, unlike her parents, she had to be at school bright and early that morning. She slipped on her shoes and walked out the heavy front door. She walked timidly and swiftly through the halls of her building, on her way to the subway.
How grown and mature she has become, Olivia Marcus thought of her; a quiet yet friendly young woman of the age of nineteen, with a touch of elegance in her stride. For having lived in the building – how many years now? About fifteen – her growth is always taken by surprise and shock to her neighbors, who remember her as the little kindergartner she was when she first moved there.
“Hi, how are you?” Olivia asked. Mindlessly, Ema smiled and nodded hello and resumed her walk to the train station. Was she going to make it in time? She covered the two block distance to the train station in no time. As she swiped her metrocard and passed through the turnstile a train approached the platform. What a delight! How perfect! It was only on rare occasions that Ema, or really any of her fellow commuters, did not have to wait at least 10 minutes for the R train, the most dreadfully running train line of the entire subway system. She took a seat and pulled out the book she was currently reading for English class, Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf, and idly read it until she arrived at her stop: 23rd street. Just in time.