Bright red warning lights.
People shuffled out of the station.
"What's going on?" a gray-haired man asked.
"Station's closed," a lady said. Makeup caked on. "There's no trains going to the city."
Oh crap, I thought.
Dozens upon dozens of commuters scurry out of the station. I could drive to the other office, but I hate that one. Bad energy.
I pull out my pass and enter the station.
Dozens more are standing around waiting for the word of God from the station operator.
The station map shows all trains have been diverted away and there's only one train facing to leave. Held up was more like it.
An inaudble announcement repeated what I feared. Service to the city has stopped is what I think it said.
I leave the crowd awaiting the word of God and stroll over to the escalators. As I rise, I'm not sure what I'll find. A train in waiting? Or an empty track.
My eyes reach over the cement railing and spot a train. Doors already open. I walk in as a puff of warm air patted my cold cheeks. I walk through the first car, searching. Why do they have cloth seats? They get dirty so fast. And they smell. I make my way to the second car and find newly upholstered seats. Like smelling new car smell. I sit down, place my bag between my feet.
The train operator announces that the stalled train has been removed and service will be restored to the city as quickly as possible.
Moments later my train dragged itself over the lonely tracks.
Follow your heart. Never let the naysayers tell you what to do.