I’d been underground for an hour … it seems the D train has decided to migrate its way at a snails pace towards soho. I had no way of communicating with work to tell them where I was or when I might expect to arrive.
For minutes at a time we sat at a standstill in the confines of a dark tunnel. And as the walls seemed to draw closer and the air got thicker I could almost feel everyone physically tense…I was waiting for the C.H.U.Ds* to make their move.
My mind wandered to worst possible scenarios, as one’s mind would start to wander pressed up against unknown strangers with no plausible route of escape. As a person with pessimistic tendencies, I am labeled a cynic. But I’m sure I’m not the only person, especially in New York City, with a hardened interior. I’m gonna go out on a limb here and blame over exposure to EVERYONE’s craziness on my overactive imagination.
My roommate, we’ll call her Summer. Summer and I were watching last weeks Smash and she turned to me and asked, “If something happened to me, how do you think everyone would find out?”
“I guess either your parents and then they would tell us? Do they even have our numbers?” I rambled.
“I mean, is that something you think about?” Summer asked.
To be honest, I have thought about it often especially recently, but not for me. Now that the motorcycle is out I think every other call that’s not yoü is bad news. But this morning I stood amongst the other urbanites who would be late for work; what happened if because it rained so much the whole tunnel flooded and we were all trapped like third class on the Titanic? Or if the rails got wet and we were all instantly electrocuted? How would authorities sift through dental records of so many people? And how would anyone find out where I was trapped?
These were the thoughts that started my day. Odd.
Moral of my morbid story? The end may be near.
Tell all you love them just incase something crazy happens or you get eaten alive by the subway dwelling albinos.
* Canabalistic Humanoid Underground Dwellers