Nightline Transit

Riding along on the tote's shoulder strap, I stepped off onto the cool concrete ledge of a pedestrian overpass above the city thoroughfare. Below, streams of headlights and taillights blurred together in endless, humming lines of white and red. A discarded, metallic metro transit token lay caught in a expansion joint between the safety railing posts. I planted my boots firmly on the rough aggregate, crouched low, and wedged the edge free with both hands. When I stood and tapped the flat metal disc against the painted guardrail, it rang out with a clean, bell-like ping against the urban evening roar.