this morning #590.

this morning, beneath the intense artificial lights of penn station, he hurried from the NJ transit tracks toward the street. with each step he took, he hurried past packs of particular people without considering their existence. homeless folk. military men with assault rifles. the types of tourists who weren’t paying any attention to him either. it went like this every single day, swiftly moving through this midtown monument to a musty model of modern transportation. he was off in his own world, just trying to mind his own business, merely make it through the morning. the more he endured this routine, the easier it became for him to deem his fellow man as nothing more than a distraction.