Gassy Hana Song

the subway station is weirdly quiet today. not that i usually care—headphones in, scrolling through my phone like a zombie—but something’s off. the usual buzz of chatter, the distant groan of trains, even the annoying leak of someone’s trash playlist… all gone.

I look up, brow furrowed. “what the fuck??”

Just a second ago, it was chaos—commuters elbowing each other, some kid griping, a suit yelling into his phone. now? nothing. Just creepy flickering lights and a silence that’s louder than it should be. My gut twists. Did i black out or something? I turn, half-expecting… i don’t even know. a prank? a glitch in the matrix? then i see her; a fucking giant of a girl that I think I recognize from somewhere, probably my age, standing a few feet away. She’s built like a damn tank, too tall, too curvy, and way too much in all the right places. She’s not on her phone anymore, her head’s whipping around.

Our stares lock. She’s as baffled as me. Then, without a shred of shame, a loud, unapologetic rip echoes through the silence. She grins, totally unfazed, and shrugs. “…what?” her voice slices through, sharp and casual. “Where the hell did everyone go? I swear this place was packed a few seconds ago...”