There was a peaceful silence this morning over the entirety of my domain. A thin fog has drifted in over Boston, blanketing it in errie white shadows, and defining scilence. It almost appears like the world itself is trying to smother me and the rest of its inhabitants. The creepy feeling that there is something going on outside of the fog, that wouldn't be happening if it wasn't there. A feeling that it is there for a purpose, for a reason, even though that reason eludes the brightest of us.
There are many people gathered together, waiting and inpatient for there turn to travel from their homes to the city. Most are quiet, especialy on this errie day, but there are always the non conformists. The unstable, insane or inept of the croud feel it their duty to proclame to the world their thoughts and feelings on what they see. A train comes and then it goes. Those left are slightly more annoyed, but this feeling passes after they settle back into their books, newspapers or conversations. Thats when the voices come loud on the air to reassure us that we are not lost nor forgotten. A train comes. There is a great influx off, but soon that influx is reversed. The train car is filled, so there is no room to move or to breath.
::Ding Ding:: The doors close, and everyone holds on as best they can. It is not the time to be afrade of other humans, considering for the next 20 minutes they will be surrounding, and touching you. You start to feel clostrophobic for a second, and then the train jerks. Have faith in your hand hold, it is one of the only certainty's that you have. The trip is long, yet you have taken it so many times that it never seems as long as it is. You try not to look anywhere, yet you have to, so you look out the window. Things buzz by, too fast to see, too fast to know. Glimpses into lives and places and then they are gone. Towns, blocks, streets, yards, houses, rooms, people all at one point that they will not be in a moment. This entertainment is priceless for those who know it, but it doesn't matter, its gone too fast. Black darkness. No matter the time, no matter the weather, it is always the same when you enter the tunnels. A blackness that envelops the train and everyone inside.
::Ding Ding:: The doors open and people flux out of the train. Following the croud up and around the stairs, there is the hope for a familiar face, or some type of joy. But there almost never is. Sometimes there is a glimps of sunlight, but the fog made sure that that wouldn't be the case today. Again we wait. Again the trains come, and the trains go, but this time people deal better with missed oppertunities. The trains come faster, but hold less. The giant clock attached to the cealing says 8:34. Over a half hour to the first class of the day. Your concern with time is eased, you are in no rush. A train comes. Its not going where you want to go. You wait. The cicle repeats, until you start feeling less at ease with how much time you have. A train appears at the end of your vision. A glimmer of hope stirs inside of you. You have good vision, but the distance is too far for that. The train is now close enough for you to make out the shape of the words, a time practiced skill that has come in handy many times. Ah, the E line, a wave of refief washes over you. It pulls up and stops.
::Ding Ding:: The doors open and you find yourself fighting up three small steps. Its always the fastest and most aggressive people that get on first. The ones that feel like they are in a hurry are the most aggressive. They fill in and then allow the slow and weak on. Even though these cars are smaller, people very rarely are left behind. The doors close and you find your face almost pressed against a window to allow others to exist on the train with you. This position would be favorable if not for the face that the train was still underground. Your view now consists of the darkness of the tunnels, and the reflections of the people behind you. You watch people without watching people, and travel in the dark tunnels without traveling in them. You readjust yourself everytime someone else does. Every stop comes as a relief with the people leaving and as a pain with the people coming on. One stop merges into the next. You feel like you woke up so long ago. Finaly, the train breaks the serface. Sunlight? No, the fog swerls around the train as it leaves the tunnels. Out of the darkness and into the errieness of the bright fog.
::Ding Ding:: The doors open and you get off at your destination. Class starts in 15 minutes. Just enough free time to find out whats going on in the world. Your path to a bench makes you pass a news box. A free newspaper? Thank goodness for the Metro. Ariving at the bench you finaly get off your feet for the first time in an hour. You open the paper and read through the blurb sized articles. The entire goings on of the world compacted into a paragraph a topic. Region, government, world, movies, sports, and editorials. ::Beep Beep:: 9:00. Ah, time for my day to begin.