I remember boarding the train to Harlem and 125th Street with my mother and my sisters when we were younger. They were always spontaneous trips and they were always late enough so that the TRL studio was dark and vacant. I was afraid of the potholes and the edge of the sidewalk. I was also afraid of the train dock. But it was so much fun. We gorged dingy hot dogs in the cold, our taste buds not tasting a thing. And then we'd walk up Richmond Hill, exhausted from jocularity. My mother would lay a blanket out on our cousin's floor and crash on the bed right in her whimsical outfit next to someone snoring. Eight years later, I transferred to a school closer to home and took the Danbury line to Norwalk, which took me straight to Grand Central. The experience was entirely different but they were still always spontaneous.
can submit immediately
editors and members can submit