It was around 2:30 am.
My hurrying footsteps were echoing around the empty platform, as I was making my way out of the subway station at SoHo stop. The air smelled like the breath of a drunkard–––sour, humid, and bitter. The unpleasant odor alerted me, and all of sudden I felt a bit uneasy. After all, the New York City subway is often naked in its danger, bewilderment, agitation.
The sound of my soles was absorbed by my increasing fear until I climbed up the stairs and saw the green subway lamp on Prince Street. Like Stan March in the cartoon South Park, it gave me a bright mischievous smile, and made me surprise into laugher.
At the instant moment, the fear was gone with the fresh, cool autumn breeze...