I stand at the corner of Confusion St. and Certainty Ave. I take in the cool breeze, observing with cautious comfort the shimmering Ocean of Opportunities in the overwhelmingly infinite horizon. I hear the familiar rattle of the earth, and I prepare to jump onto the approaching They Line streetcar, yet much to my surprise, it seems to be rapidly accelerating. I step back as it perilously roars around the corner at an unprecedented speed, violently shaking the neighborhood. The car rips away from the electric line and uncouples from the tracks. Before I cover my ears and close my eyes as it inevitably careens into calamity, I look in through the rear window, expecting to see hundreds of terrified faces. From my admittedly limited glance, it curiously appears devoid of a single morning commuter. Nonetheless, I shield myself, preparing for the worst. After an eternity of silent seconds, I open my eyes to a neighborhood that shows no signs of any unusual activity, and the streetcar is not in sight. As I begin to reflect on what has happened, the bell of the They Line jingles as it arrives in front of me, full of passengers.
Did I miss something?