Mind Gap. Marina Cohen

the escalator, he dug into his pocket for his iPod. He froze. It wasn’t there. Neither was his phone. Or his keys. Or his wallet. He searched frantically, checking each of his pockets and the floor, but it was no use — they were gone! They must have fallen out on the train during his scuffle with Short-Shorts. Either that or someone had stolen them. Even his transfer slip was gone.

      Jake smacked his hand against the grimy wall and swore. “This night is getting better by the minute.”

      Resigning himself to the fact that his stuff was lost, he took the escalator to the lower level and headed toward the eastbound platform. Since he hadn’t actually exited the transit system, he didn’t have to pay another fare. This was a minor relief since all he had left were the stray nickels and dimes he hadn’t gambled away — and even those had mysteriously dwindled in number. Jake hit the button on the transfer dispenser and shoved the new slip into his pocket without even glancing at it.

      The train came quickly. A regular train — nothing old or odd about it. He boarded and sat back, thankful he was heading home.

      Jake yawned deeply. He stared off into space, wondering why he had let Cole convince him to go to the party in the first place. To stay awake, Jake read the ads. There was an ad for some store’s upcoming sale, but the clothing seemed out of style. There was a Microsoft ad for Windows that looked ancient. How long has that been hanging around? Jake thought. Then he saw the subway map. It showed the north-south route and the east-west route, but the new line was missing.

      Suddenly, something else occurred to Jake. Back at St. George Station the ad for the teeth whitener was gone. He remembered staring at the smiling faces before he’d boarded the old train, but it hadn’t been there when he’d gotten off. Where were the flat-screen monitors and where were the smiling people?