Saturday, September 27, 2014

"We Haven't Had that Spirit Here Since 1969"

"Next stop: Franklin Avenue," the conductor says over the speaker. Everyone in the car looks up in amused confusion, since this stop, the one we're at, is Franklin.

"Stupid guy doesn't even know where we're going," the woman across the aisle says to no one in particular as she shakes her head in mock disbelief.

But for a second I wonder if he really does know, that maybe we've been transported into some kind of hell where we simply close the train doors and rattle through the noisy darkness between stations, only to emerge into the light at the same station again, unable to leave, and back into the darkness, and so on, and on, trapped between stations, for eternity.

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