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Just Do It

 

As our train pulled into Philadelphia, I saw rhinos at the zoo next door before we slid in the dark station. The minutes dragged on and on as they switched out engines. Waiting for a doctor in an emergency room took less time. I rocked in my unforgiving seat and, for the first time, thought about abandoning my mission to conquer New York.

 

After finally leaving Philly, our frequency of stops increased in familiar-sounding towns: Bryn Mawr, Princeton, Trenton, Newark.

 

I knew we entered the zone when a trio of teen girls bopped into the car, giggling and talking excitedly about their upcoming night in the city. Shit just got real. My low-grade nausea detonated into chest-pounding fear. I kept watching out the window, searching for more signs.

 

The train banked to the right, opening up my view. Sunlight glinted off of metal far in the distance. A closer look through August haze revealed jagged spikes poking the air. There. There she is. The Manhattan skyline, baking in its own bubble of combustible energy. We were headed right into its core.

 

The city looked deceptively sleepy, content in the harbor it claimed over 300 years earlier. As the skyline grew closer, the sun gleamed brighter off steel and glass towers. Jets now descended smoothly into the bubble, like airships in a Star Wars movie.

 

Our train then dipped below grade. Cement walls crept up outside the windows, blocking daylight. We had entered a tunnel that amplified our speed and the silence in our car. My ears popped.

 

We rushed through the dark as fast as my heart beat in my throat until…we slowed, then crawled. Fluorescent tubes lined a low ceiling now outside my tinted window. A concrete platform emerged below. People inside the car already milled about, restless, ready to leave.

 

The conductor came over the intercom one last time:  “Penn Station. Fiiinal destination. Make sure to take all of your belongings. And thank YOU for riding Amtrak.”

 

We stopped. I rose from my seat and looked down to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything. My legs quivered.

 

“Just do it,” I whispered. I grabbed The World’s Heaviest Briefcase and waited, taking in deep breaths of stale air until the exit doors slid open.

 

Photo Credit:Wikimedia Commons/Mws.Richter

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