Heart Attack

I came around to the mouth of the stairs at Union Square. There was a police man standing there, talking to a commuter in Spanish. He blocked my route. He interrupted my thought. There were people everywhere. It was a madhouse and no one was allowed up the stairs to the downtown N/R line. The line I needed to be on 15 minutes ago. She was on the stair. Her body was contorted. It didn’t look right with the concrete and the metal and the gum. It just laid there without a choice. She was gasping for air as they placed her into an orange emergency chair. Her pupils were dilated. She looked scared. She looked embarrassed. And us? We just stood there at the mouth, behind the cop and his Spanish conversation about dinners and drinks, we waited and watched. When would this end? When would I be able to get to the train? I am not sure if there IS another entrance without exiting first. Wouldn’t that just take me longer? What if my boss is pissed? Why now? Woman?! Why now?

My first thought was, “Get out of the way officer! I am LATE!” And I think I should leave here soon. Perhaps I’m not cut out for it. :)

(To the woman who was removed from the stairs today on the N/R line, I do hope you’re ok. And I’m sorry we all look so empty).

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