A Writer’s Book of Days (01/14) – Write About The Horizon

“Wait a second, are we supposed to be going over a bridge?” Mom asked as the J train rumbles into daylight.

Crap. I forgot that Essex Street and Delancey Street were the same station and missed the stop.

In a few months, I was moving to the Bronx for college and was still learning the intricacies of New York City’s subway system. We certainly weren’t supposed to be going over a bridge. Nor did I know that the next stop, Marcy Avenue, wasn’t in the greatest neighborhood.

We got off the train at Marcy Avenue and waited for the next uptown train. There were some interesting characters loitering around the station, and I knew Mom was a bit nervous. She hadn’t ridden the subway in decades, and this wasn’t exactly a mistake that would calm someones reservations.

Finally, an M train pulls into the station and we hop on, taking a bench seat by one of the windows. It starts moving back toward Manhattan.

“Look at what God painted tonight,” Mom whispered, pointing to the sun setting over Manhattan’s horizon. The sky towards the front of the train was filled with brushstrokes of orange, red, gold, pink, and purple. It was one of the more spectacular sunsets I’d seen.

Flickr: bondidwhat

“Look!” she said more loudly, pointing towards the east. Not only we were witnessing a beautiful sunset, but a rare moon rising over Brooklyn’s horizon.

Sometimes missing your stop isn’t such a bad thing after all.