It's wet and rainy tonight. The changing temperature and seasons have fog coming off the tarmac and the rivers.
I'm riding the Seven train home to Queens after a thirteen hour day. As we stop at 45Rd Courthouse Square, a young woman with long wavy hair jutting out from under her ballcap dances on the platform. Backlit from the mercury vapor lights further up the platform, she's dancing a kind of New Jack Swing/Paula Abdul style in the half light. Spinning and moving her hips, jump, hips, two fingers on the brim and a flourish. She spins again as we pull away. She's practicing her moves. Slowly, the train pulls away and she is replaced by darkness.
My mind wanders and then Manhattan is in view across the way. Blues and grays are rapidly overcome by the greens and browns of man-made light. Thin rectangles of office lights and the shapes of buildings, barely discernable. A jumble of light and fog, slowly moving past. It's a lovely fall evening in New York.
Thanks to Dylan for reminding me to write.