Strange to see your story end

I rode the el train last night from Harlem to the city sitting in the front seat looking through the window. It was beautiful - dark patches of unpopulated streets intermittently punctuated with sparkly Christmas frippery. I used to ride the front seat of the top layer of the London buses in the same way - walkman plugged in, unwinding a soundtrack of love and loss and all the while, riding the sound, riding the streets, I was high above it, myself and everyman. London is doing away with doubledecker buses, so I won't be able to do that again.

But last night I was blissfully alone. The Green Line out to the west is nearly a straight line, and using it to inch closer and closer to the city you can feel the activity of the Loop like a homing device, or a planet drawing you into its orbit.

I love that the tracks are elevated. It lends a superiority to mass transit, that as you wait, you stand above the milling, confused commuters in cars. It's far better than being plunged deep in the earth for having the temerity to use public transportation.

Now if it weren't so dishearteningly cold, it might have been a perfect evening.