Gunned

It's my second train, LIRR from Penn Station to Mineola. It's not too late. The train leaves at 9:25. I sit in the largest part of the car, close to the middle. A man of questionable sanity is causing a disturbance in the smaller compartment to the back. My headphones are on, I don't hear much. We reach our next station, the transfer hub that is Jamaica. A few officers stand outside the train. The man is gone from the train. The ticket collector is questioned. Halfway to our next destination we stop. My headphones are on, I don't hear much. We have to go backwards and be rerouted. A minute in the wrong direction, we stop again. Other trains pass on the right. Shots, heavy, loud popping sounds, and they're hitting the train. My headphones are on, I hear it perfectly. The windows across the aisle from my seat show the effects. Splatters of orange, starting from a center point and arranged in a messy circle. Everyone stares toward the disturbance, heads above the seats. My train car has just been hit with the workings of a paintball gun. I laugh.