underground it grows quiet now. the screeching of the wheels upon the long and slender steel tracks fade into the ceaseless drone of automatic machine-regulated air conditioning and the collective sighs from irritated passengers.
signal malfunctions and power failures turn into information-sharing malfunctions and timeframe failures. we are not moving at the moment. we are not moving for so many moments. what does it mean to be beholden to the inner-workings and the behind-the-scenes of this transit system?
what does it mean to exist in limbo. how long have we been here? how long will we endure in this construction of reality turned askew? so many menial questions, mostly for clarification...and so few answers if answers at all.
the minutes build and the faces resigned, we turn to the small comfort of our communication devices. the warm glow of the screen lifting us collectively out from the situation, and beyond light and fantasy into a realm of being which is not defined by a lack of electrical current.
you're thinking of a number, and yes, you should call it. isn't it time you found the strength to make that connection? however it may turn out, you'll still have the pride in knowing you stepped forward from the brink of a lifetime of silence.