Imperceptible motion brings oncoming daylight, in further lightening hues of blue, as though the sky falls to earth at night and must rise again by morning. Each flag strung along the line is a person, fluttering limply against a failing breeze. Around the station people wander, meeting or avoiding the eyes of others. Talk indoors, smoke outdoors in odorous clouds that creep indoors upon their return, clinging to their breath and their worn cloth.

Trains run on either side, silent through the glass, an impression of circular, pointless motion without destination. Rows of buses lie dark and dead, awaiting revival without anticipation. Clouds reflect off the windshields making the glass look broken. When the speaker cuts on with a metallic voice, the words are meaningless in conflict with the monotony of music and media. Flashing lights ignite the lenses of my glasses. I am a specter in my surroundings, quiet guardian and selfIsh protector of the only traveler that matters.