You have arrived. People passing, doors swinging open, elbows shoving. The lights are never becoming dim, the background only fades into blurry craziness. One foot in front of the other, the eternal motto of residents and tourists alike. Honks, beeps, screeching, yelling, exhaust pipes fuming, whistles, sirens, high heels clacking the concrete. Sound is overwhelming, overbearing, and overcompensating for any moment of silence that could've been enjoyed. You're never alone, you're always occupied. Take a quick look upwards. Towering skyscrapers are merely part of the essence, an attraction to some and a burden to others. Do you feel trapped in? Where are the trees, the flowers, the grass? Where are the parking spaces, the gas stations, the drive-thrus? Eyes slant from side to side, trying to soak everything in before it passes by. Arms swinging up and down, always in a hurry to get there. Where? The possibilities are endless. A metropolis not made for the lazy, your feet become the main mode of transportation. Everyone owns the sidewalk, and you better watch out for the shoulder shove. No one knows who you are, and most never care to. It's their city, not yours. You're too new, so watch where you walk.
The yellow ones don't stop.
Photo Credit: Sproch, Emily. Almost Carrie-All Hail. 2011. Photograph. AskaNewYorker.com, New York.
