Night LightsMay 13, 2009
Just got in after a couple exhausting days at work. My mood had been dragging terribly while I waited for a cab to take me back home, downtown, and I passed the time by quietly catalogueing my mental list of tiny, mundane grievances– lack of lighting in cabs makes it impossible to read on the way home, cutting my commute reading time in half, photocopying all day makes wearing heels to work a painful and perilous prospect, dealing with mounds of papers gives me such dry hands and such a plethora of papercuts that my manicurist clucked in disapproval last time she saw my fingers. Boring things like that. Anyway, I finally obtained a cab, got in, vaguely tried to make conversation while trying to think of people I could whine to about the tragedy of my humdrum existence that night. Clicked through my phone and rejected prospects very self-pityingly and melodramatically. No! She would obviously be faaaar too busy to hear me whine at such an hour! Ahime! I happened to glance up right after we had passed Union Square, and suddenly, something about the vista that I encountered made me shove all the whines to the back of my minds and clamp down on them so they wouldn’t get out. Just one perfect still moment, when it seemed that all the construction workers and garbage trucks simultaneously paused for breath . No drills, no horns, not even any drunk freshmen roaming the street. Just a quiet intersection, cars silently filing past each other, perpendicular to us. Even the radio somehow seemed to have received the message, fading into nothingness for the span of two inhalations. I looked around, trying to impress this beautiful, still moment into my brain. We savoured the silence contemplatively, then the light turned red, the driver cranked the music (Led Zeppelin- Dazed and Confused) and I was jolted suddenly out of my dreaminess, more alert than at any point before. Absolved of all wanderlust and firmly reminded of my love for this city. Perhaps this augurs well for the coming day?