“My feet. That’s the signal. They start twitching. And I know it’s coming,” C tells me.

Out the window of the rushing train, the sun climbs up out of the eastern horizon of Colorado. I met C early this morning for the first time after she agreed to be interviewed for a project I’m working on that involves Denver’s transit system.

She continues, “You know like on a roller coaster when the car slows at the top?”

“Oh yeh, of course,” I say “There’s that ‘clack, clack, clack’ as the car slows and groans beneath the weight and incline. Then it gets to the top and pauses.”

“Well, when I feel that—that twitching—I sit down ‘cause I know it’s about to happen.”

“Sit no matter where you are? Middle of the street? Anywhere?”

“Anywhere. I have to.”

“And then…”
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