This is part of a collection of short stories written by Ted Harrison that are 200 words or less. If you enjoy these stories, please share them on the interwebs and he will give you all of the points.
His sunglasses slipped off the replaced button on the flannel gifted by his ex. The reach down seemed to require leaping across a canyon as the train whirred into the station. He examined the newly formed cracks in the lenses before carefully sliding the pair into a faded saddlebag. With only a sigh, he stepped onto the train car, took a seat, and looked up as the train began moving away from the platform. The sign flashed in his face and the second sigh signaled a dreadful realization had been made: he had boarded an express train bound to take from him twenty minutes he did not have to give.
The train emerged from underground just as the sun rose far enough into the sky to meet it. The light shot in and Gavin instinctively reached for his sunglasses and tried to buff out the crevices. The glass in the left lens shattered from the pressure, drawing looks from the people surrounding him that he had failed to notice until that moment. An older woman across the car smiled and patted the seat next to her. It faced west.