In black-and-white, the trains roll past the station. Sophie B. Hawkins walks down the stairs. On the first floor, the band plays as they wait for her. She dances to the microphone and starts to sing. After rolling around on the floor, she stands up and hits her chest. She and one of her background singers run in a circle.
She leans against a column by the train station. Back in the building, she crawls on the floor, stands up and jumps. She puts the microphone back in its stand. She walks on the platform and carries a platform as another train drives past her.
Sophie B. Hawkins reads her book as she sits on the bench. In the corner of her eye, a young woman talks with the clerk behind the counter. She buys the newspaper and waves goodbye. Hawkins stares at her as she walks to the corner. The young woman walks past her and turns to her. She quickly turns a page while staring at her legs. The young woman had lovely legs. The young woman waits on the platform on the train. Her boyfriend puts his arms around her and kisses her.
Hawkins scratches her forehead. They were always straight. Every. Single. Time. She leans over, watching them talk. There wasn’t any chemistry between them. Perhaps the young woman was in denial. The train stops and Hawkins gets up. In the train, she walks past them an smiles. The young woman grins. She sits near them and says the weather has been a lot nicer lately. Her boyfriend says it was the first time they’d been out in about two weeks. The young woman exclaims she loves the book Hawkins is reading. Hawkins smiles and says it’s her comfort book. The young woman puts her hand to heart and says she cried at the end. The train comes to a stop. They say goodbye to her.
There was a sliver of a chance. If she usually took the train around the time, Hawkins could at least form a friendship. At night, in bed, she stares at the ceiling and thinks of the young woman as she puts her hand on her chest. She takes a deep breath as she closes her eyes.
Director: N/A Year: 1992