Every single day I see a post about someone getting struck by an oncoming train. Sometimes surviving. Sometimes not.
And just today the F train derailed in Queens! Talk about putting a dent in the morning commute. All those people stuck underground. Hurt. Panicked. I couldn't possibly imagine it.
My heart skips a beat every time the train stops between stations for more that ten seconds. My impatience peaks when we hear the automated announcer saying "we are delayed due to train traffic ahead of us" more than once.
Or when I'm waiting in the station and another robotic voice booms out through the loud speakers saying "after an earlier incident...there are delays..."
The transportation of over a million souls on this insane metropolitan island could make the entire city come to a screeching halt with just one misplaced rail. Unsettling.
Yet we keep going. Keep disappearing into the subway stations with a dumb blind expectation that everything will be just fine. That this will surely not happen to me. That I will get to where I need to be on time.
The morning gamble. The nightly risk. The New York City subway.
MTA subway workers heading out into the tunnels
2:30am on my commute home from Brooklyn. L train