Lost asks lost


I am standing on a train platform, trying to reach New York City.

J, a 13-year-old kid, with his mother walks to me.

“This line goes to New York City?”


Fade into my mind palace:

I am standing in front of the train platform and I know nothing about it.

I am so stupid.

 Does J not even know it’s been only 3 weeks that I have been here? 

Come on man, Do I even look New Yorker to you. I don’t have that swag.

Hey, maybe I do! I have been here like a month.

And this is the line I take my usual weekday ride, so this must be it.

So cool! I know all.

Cut to the real world.

“yep! it is!”

He translated me to his mother.

“Umm…The station people tell us it’s not direct we gotta transfer on Grove Street for the city”

“Nope, this is the way”


Cut back to my mind palace:

Ah, look at me, just helped a mother and son to reach the city. I might be the next urban hero.

Mind palace disrupted thanks to a thickly accented announcer:

“Passengers traveling eastbound from Journal Square must board a Newark-World Trade Center train at Journal Square and transfer at Grove Street to continue the trip to Hoboken and then Manhattan. ”

Cut back to mind palace:

Fuck!  I am awful.

Jump cut to the real world:

The train has arrived too less time for me to find them.

I walking with my back towards the train, spotting J and throwing my hands all around begging him to follow me in the train, he pulls his mother.

Roll end credits:

Only in this New York City, one foreigner asks another foreigner where to go, we are lost and away from home and yet together away and on way.

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