I inspected the earring of a woman sleeping next to me. "Copper colored plastic is the new gold", I thought and as she shifted I looked out the train window. No one wants to be caught staring. Storybook clouds hung in the blue sky as we passed rusting factories and the backs of old towns. At first I thought she was tired but she kept waking, shifting, blowing her nose. When the woman got up and staggered to the space between the cars a man followed and I heard him ask her if she needed a doctor. I hunted for the antiseptic wipes I pocketed earlier in the day. The conductor called out "Balll-teee-moore!" over the speaker and the woman came back to the car to collect her shopping bags from the rack. She rushed to the rear. After we came to a stop and I detrained, I climbed up the stairs to Charles Street. I felt safe.