Golden Ages of New York

The rumble of the trains echoed along the dark, dank tunnels. The dirty, dusty tracks rattled and screeched in protest as the subway cars clanked their way along them. Their bodies marked with age and use. So many people, these trains have seen. Tall, short, homeless, affluent, black, white, fat, skinny. All different shapes, sizes and colors, going someplace, or no where at all.

I sat next to the doors on this train. This car held the old style, reminiscent of the golden ages of New York. Not littered with computer controlled LCD screens or bright white florescent tubes. Coated with a yellow dinge from time's pass. The letter Q etched into the glass on the window.

Quickly, Quietly, Quest, Quality, Quantity...

These trains hold a special place in my heart, the industrious place. Not the one with puppies, or valentines. But the place reserved for big old steel factories, foundries and industry. Booming business and busy workers. I am from the future, though my hindsight remains true. We were so naive back then, but aspired to greatness.

People riding together are always so interesting. Some try so hard to disregard one another. Others try and attract attention. Some stare off into the distance completely unaffected.

My gaze falls upon a beautiful girl. Probably not much older than I, her long brunette locks fall just past her shoulders. Her olive skin glistens with the slightest bit of summer sweat. Her brown eyes, pools of thoughtfulness as she reads Friedrich Nietzsche's Human, All Too Human.

I wonder if I should say something to her.

"Hey, is that Nietzsche?"
"Yeah... What does it look like? What are you, retarded?"...No.

"That's a great book..."
"Wow, and you're pretty creepy."...No.

"Hi, I'm..."
"Sorry, I've got a boyfriend."

I play a million scenarios in my head. Finally, I return my stare to the window. The passing concrete jungle in the distance. Apartment buildings, and businesses. People getting high. People kissing. People loving. People reading. People stealing and mugging. People plotting. People thinking.

I wonder if anybody is thinking about me, right now. Not me specifically, but me right now. The guy staring into the abyss of civilization. I wonder if they're thinking exactly what I'm thinking.

The train bells ding as the Conductors voice jubilantly exclaims "Avenue H!" I look out into Flatbush from the open subway door. It's low buildings, run down and historic. Time seems to have fallen away from me, as the Q makes it way down the alphabet of streets before it.

The beautiful girl arises from her seat quickly grabbing her things. Her eyes meet mine for a moment, and she smiles. I return a smile, as she passes to leave. It's the little things that make me happy in life. Smiles from a stranger, long train rides to think.

Finally, Kings Highway arrives and I step out of the crowded train. The orange glow of the street lights around me continue my reminiscence of an era I was barely alive for. As I walk the streets, I fall deeper into the arms of Brooklyn. It's people, it's atmosphere. For them, it was a place to live. But for me, it was a new discovery.

The old apartment building stood tall, on the end of a dead end street. The red glow of the end marker artifacting in my eyes. Twinkling as it warned. I made my way up the concrete steps, my feet scratching the chalkboard of concrete as I did. Time is the enemy, I pondered as I climbed those ancient steps. Exploring the temple of the domicile.

My friends were gathered on the roof, smoking cigarettes and taking photos of the skyline.

"Oi, What took you so long?"

"Nice to see you too, Asshole." I replied with a laugh.

The roof door slammed behind me as I joined them with a metal clank. I grabbed a cigarette from the pack and lit it.
I took a long drag. The smoke seemed to join the clouds as it left me. In the falling light of dusk, the skyline was breathtaking. The buildings painted with bright goldenrod and deep purple. A rainbow sherbet splattered across the sky.

The cameras clicked and snapped at the skyline. Hoping to catch the rays of sunlight before they collapsed into the earth once again.

I heard the roof door clank shut behind me.

I turned around to see the beautiful girl and her friends. Carrying a bottle of liquor, and laughing.

Only in New York, I thought to myself.