Behind yellow lines.
A month on, and it has not been all that exciting after all.
The delayed thrill of the wind that follows a few seconds after a scheduled express train bullets by; the now familiar faces that enter the same carriage every morning; the sudden jerks and unsteady bumps that occur as the station approaches a mere ten minutes later.
We may have long breezed past the snaking line of traffic jams, forever filled with either angry red or bright yellow lights. But these are everyday images that hardly register anymore, for in its place now is a mental to-do list for the day, filled with the most menial of tasks to please even the most difficult manager in the universe.
We may have been looking at nothing, staring out the same fogged up windows on a cold and rainy Monday. But these are office drones dressed in white collared shirts and black polished heels, for no one else seems to have traded away their job security and long-time happiness for a chance at becoming something better than they once were.
This could be a mere little mis-step, designed to put your mind to the test; or an honest and blatant mistake, one that is unforgiving at best. Perhaps only time could tell, but unfortunately that is a luxury ill-afford at the moment.