The sidewalk was slick with water. People in cloaks carrying umbrellas walked hurriedly down the thin lanes. A boy called Alex, cloaked in his hood, and a few others broke away from the swiftly moving group and stepped cautiously down the stairs to the subway. After reaching the dry tunnel they continued on briskly. A normal day. Alex purchased a pass and stepped through the metal grating. Alex descended another staircase into the tunnels below. The subway was a different world: a world underground. It had it's own smell, people, and atmosphere. A world within a world. Grafitti decorated the walls of the tunnel and created a map of colors and a mixture of ideas that one could ponder upon for hours. Alex often wandered through the subway and studied the fascinating paintings. He thought of them as the spirits of the underground. Each vibrant piece flowed and ebbed along the brick walls like a rainbow-colored moss. As Alex stepped closer to the platform he heard the sound of metal grinding on the rails of the subway.The monotomy of daily life had conditioned him to ignore such a sound and it quickly washed out of his mind. Alex approached the yellow line at the end of the platform and waited impatiently for the subway car. The thick yellow line was a suggestion of safety and an assurance that no harm would befall you if you remain behind it. Alex, remainded behind the line and waited still. He felt an elbow dig deep into his side. He let out a short cry and stumbled over the yellow line, losing his balance on the edge of the platform. He heard the sound again, the shrieking of metal, but this time the sound was different. He heard the gears of his fate turning.

(C) J.K. Chrisawn

[notes: This is the third or fourth (I can't remember...) rewrite of this particular part. Needless to say, I've had a hard time with it... : ) However, this is the strongest yet.]