her empire

The Subway Singer was excited. As she sat on the platform with her guitar, time shifted and a blast from the past roared in and opened its doors. Rattan seats, ceiling fans, windows that opened. A subway car built in 1917. Could you get on? Would you disappear into the twilight zone? The conductors were beckoning. "Running on  the express track between 96th and 42nd St." She packed up her CDs and her gear.
She hopped on.