text: "Every single day there is a problem with this line," Romero complained to the commuter across from him. It was not the first time Romero had seen him. It felt like they knew one another already just from the fact that they took the same subway line every day. "And they told us they would fix the MTA," the man replied in agreement. "It makes you wonder how this city is still running." They both listened as yet another announcement was broadcasted on the intercom. It provided little information on when the metro car would move forward again. "I'm Romero," Romero introduced himself, extending a hand. "Oliver, nice to meet you." They shook hands, and a conversation was started. Romero was an accountant in a firm in midtown, Oliver, a pastry chef in Brooklyn. For a while they exchanged about their problems with the MTA trains, trying their best to laugh about it. They both knew there was not much they could do but complain. They were bound to the subway with no other alternative to get to their respective works. Finally the train restarted, and they got back to their routines, watching YouTube while ignoring just about everyone else on the train. A few days later, Romero noticed Oliver again as he stepped into the subway car and went to sit at his usual spot. He waved at him and said hello, but Oliver didn't reply. Instead, Oliver looked visibly disturbed, making it a point to sit somewhere else at the next stop. Romero, who had been in a good mood up to then, felt a little wounded to be forgotten so easily. He cursed at the subway and its zombified commuters, each in their own bubbles. He pondered Oliver?s reaction throughout the day, wondering whether he might have been responsible for it in any way. For several days after that, he didn't see Oliver again. That was almost a relief. Until a Friday when he entered the subway to find Oliver and a man looking just like him sitting by side by side. They seemed to be talking actively. Romero was too amused not to interrupt them. "Hey there," the man said enthusiastically as he noticed Romero. "Romeo right?" "Close enough," Romero replied. "Oliver?" he asked back. Oliver confirmed, and Romero proceeded to explain what had happened a few days back. He then learnt that Oliver had a twin, and that it had been Oliver's twin, Benjamin, that he'd encountered back then. The three of them had a good laugh about it before parting ways. Romero went on with his days lighter and entertained. The subway was not that bad, after all. Another few days later, Romero entered the subway to find that Oliver was not sitting next to just one person that looked like him but two. Unable to contain his surprise, he started laughing fairly loudly. A few people turned around, lifting their eyes from their screens, looking at him sideways. "How many times are you going to do this trick?" Romero asked as he approached the three men. He looked at all three at the same time, unable to recognise who Oliver or Benjamin was. "We thought he'd be funny if I showed up as well," one of the men said as he got up. "I'm Lucas, last and third of the triplet. I promise I'm the last." They all laughed together and rode the subway, chatting along. That night Romero went to bed marvelling at how the subway would always manage to surprise him, one way or another.