Before I decide on my next move, the train ever-so-slightly shudders, and slows. Not many seem to notice. But because I have a hand on it and am speedwalking, I do. I notice. My heart rate, once as high as a Swedish rookie from Gothenburg, begins returning to a more leisurely pace. I take a deep breath, feeling as if a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I wasn't ready to commit to the train, and I am happy to relax, knowing it may only be momentary.
Shaking my palm, once sweaty and beginning to smell of metal from the iron handrail, I again notice in the distance
@Lil Sebastian Cossa. He looks forlorn, frustrated by the fact that his quarter has been on the other tracks for some time, still unflattened, resisting a fate that may or may not come.
I take a closer look, and see the quarter glint brightly in the sunlight, aimed almost directly at the hype train, as if to say, "Go! It is your time. You must speed back up, and take everyone with you!" Though it seems silly to even contemplate, the quarter seems confident and defiant, as if it will never be flattened. I cock my head slightly to the side, and I'm not sure, but I could almost swear I heard whistling in the breeze that was coming from the direction of the quarter, the words, "I am Dmitri Buchelnikov, and I will not be stopped."
I feel unsure and slightly confused. I am anxious for what will come next.