Wonderfully Insignificant

It was night and I was exhausted. I could see the lights of the subway tracking overhead in silence, only the sound of the East River softly crashing ashore. Some how 40 metric tons of steel sped down a track, silently. Behind me, 1.6 million souls were either in bed or headed to work.

Across the river another 2.6 million were preparing for something similar.

If you’ve ridden the New York Subway you know- there’s something coming. The noise is unapologetic.