The train pulls into Union Station. I have a few more pages to read. The hollow metal voice of the train whispers "this train is out of service, go loiter somewhere else." I fold my book into my hand, a finger it's bookmark. The train's doors open to satisfy the impatience piled at it's feet. The pudgy fumes of the city, mixed with steel and trains, flows in quickly.

Walking through the station, my senses are stomped on. The smell of the man in front of me has me curious for a sniff of him on the ride home, after a day at work. My ears hum with footsteps from every shoe sole ever made. I try to match the more curious ones to their musicians. I follow the clop clip snap lady. She becomes the boring coosh coosh woman before I realize it was the blue man who was clop clip snapping.

I reach ground level of the station and drop into one of the many banks of empty chairs, intent on reading those last few pages of my book. These same chairs will fill tonight as the flow crests at midday and begins pouring in the opposite direction. Debris and filth gathered throughout a day in the city trailing along catching on corners and sharp edges. For now everyone is arriving at the station, elbowing and jostling in pursuit of the quickest way out. The building tipped towards the city that awaits it's workers and we're all tumbling towards the holes in it's structure.

It's frightening to see it happen. You're not supposed to stop and sit here in the morning. Why would you? The few people that can see me cast me a curious look before tossing me aside. It's disconcerting to see me just sitting, I should be hurrying somewhere.

When you're a speck making up the flow, moving at the same speed, tapping out the same signals with your heels, you can't make out the individuals. You lose them all. I expect to see people repeat but they don't.

At the end of a day, after arriving home, I often watch it in reverse from my perch high above the train station. I watch as the people movers pull up to the home stations, tilt, and dump their scattering cargo into their cars. The cars whine into motion, elbowing and jostling their passengers back home.