By: Sarah Wang

The subway rumbles.

I grasp firmly on the bar,

Peering out the glass.

The city whisks by,

Sunset hues line each building,

Peeking from behind.

The vehicle halts.

My stop is called. I exit.

The subway drives off.

I walk the cold streets,

And reach my apartment doors.

I trek up the stairs.

I turn my room’s key.

In the pantry, I reach for

The instant ramen.

Water is poured in,

Mixing with the seasoning.

Microwave cooking.

I slurp the noodles.

The ramen is comfort food.

Relax and enjoy