The train to nowhere

I saw this sign for a subway line in Manhattan

And I remembered a time in life when I was certain that New York was a magical place, full of beautiful people, glamorous restaurants, excitement around the clock

And in my small town southern mind, I was

sure this Oz was the pinnacle of achievement but I grew up and got jaded in the ways of big cities and the myths of their magic

That subway sign reminded me of the smells of vomit and piss, the sight of a junkie drooling, his pants unzipped obscenely in a sad, not sexy way

I didn’t KNOW these things, mind you

It was another myth with just a grain of truth because the magic is still there with the reality and the woman going home after her day job is just as real with her sore legs and her choice of joints to have a cocktail and a burger that those of us in the rest of the country won’t know because we don’t have the mythology of New York in our cities, which makes us just a little jealous

 

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