One platinum carriage after another rolls in, doors all set to open and inhale platform. Life is anything but stationary once the subway is entered.
The subway station exists as a microcosm of every waiting room in the world, take away the walls, the track, the metal benches and it could be any wait for anything anywhere anyplace.
If the subway were the arteries of the city, the stations were its lungs, the wide doors breathing us in and out.
The subway station could do with a bit more art, a bit more flair, anything to lift the spirits of the travellers.
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