Rumi got down from the suburban train, squeezing herself out of the jam packed ladies' compartment. She was dressed in her habitual pair of jeans, and a sunshine yellow t-shirt that was stained with splotches of fluid from the day's work. She brushed a thick lock of hair that fell on her face, fluttering out of stretch band that gathered her shoulder-length hair in a careless bun. Twisting her arm, she hoped for her eversilver water bottle from the bottle holder of her backpack. As the sparse remnant of cold water streamed down her throat, she admonished herself for not