Thumping my own town. But once I stepped into

Thumping and screeching, the solidified enginekicked into movement, pushing the smooth, modern train down the beaten, oldtrack and into the dark. Indeed, even after the train had left, the sound ofthe beating locomotives pounded through the night, until the deep booms of itsintense thrusts quieted down to gentle beats in the heart of the night.

Fog twirledtenderly over the empty track, covering in the wispy blanket. The track was nowhidden underneath a strange layer, like a deep secret or a myth. Looking outsidethrough the window, the landscape was every fascinating color, each one of themas new as another canvas straight from Rome. The splendid greens exiled eachdark thought and the sky lifted the eye in a way that brought the villagers torespect the strands of the floating white cloud.

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The flowers lay scattered onthe grass like solidified flares, conveying their cool blast to the late springmorning. There really was no cover, no hills, nothing toobstruct the view. There wasn’t a solitary point of interest otherthan the sun in the daytime and the star groupings around evening time.Finally, the train had arrived. The subway at this late hour resembles a murderscene before the crime. There is nobody here but me right now. In the daytimethe subway station was a fuming mass of humanity.

Everybody from every walk oflife was shoulder to bear, in each other’s appearances, no individual space, noexceptions. I have walked these streets my entire life, I know them simply thesame as though they were carved in my mind with a sharp blade, scored inprofound like some unusual masterpiece. These are the streets I experiencedchildhood with and for the most part I’m comfortable here, at home, on the downlow with an enduring heartbeat. Not today though. Tonight my heart is pounding outof my chest. It demands salvation. It sounds like it’s going to crack a rib.

Mysenses are on high alert. Every color is brighter, every noise louder, every strangercauses to make my heart beat more fiercely still. I felt like a stranger to myown town. But once I stepped into our neighborhood, I was drenched with thesweet scent of childhood memories. Finally I’m back home.