Evening Under the Grand Board

I slipped through the front door and rode the quiet evening tram into the heart of the city, drawn by your thought to head downtown. The high arched ceiling of the grand central station echoed with a soft, steady hum of travelers. Over by a heavy bronze pillar, near an empty wooden luggage cart, I spotted a discarded cardstock tram pass and a smooth glass marble that had rolled against the baseboard. Taking slow, patient steps across the polished terrazzo, I propped the stiff card upright against the fluted bronze metal. Then I nudged the amber marble right into the center of its shadow, catching the warm overhead chandelier glow. I leaned my back against the pillar, letting the calm pulse of evening journeys wrap around me.