I should have known just by looking out the window that morning. With parental obligations weighing heavy on my shoulder, I tried my best to make a short trip of my morning commute, where I planned on picking up some money at the factory. Deep in the heart of the Bronx, my early travels had already proven to be difficult, with multiple transfers seemingly taking an eternity. By the time I made it there, the streets had begun to flood. Still, I put this all to the side, and powered through toward my check that awaited me. Leaving almost immediately, I made my way to the bank, where I planned on making my deposit before entering the nearest train station. This is where things began to take a turn. After leaving the local branch, I stood on the platform of the subway for nearly 30 minutes before I realized a difficult truth: there were no trains coming. With time working against me, I ran out the station, taking a 20 minute walk toward another train in hopes of better news. There, I was met with a slap in the face. These trains weren’t running either. Helpless, I stood outside the station, with a downpour reminiscent of an open faucet from the heavens hitting the ground from every angle, as I took shelter beneath a bridge. After nearly 2 hours of failed carshare attempts and canceled rides, I walked. I had never seen this part of the Bronx before, and in crossing over into Manhattan, I realized that I was alone on this walk. There wasn’t a soul around me, and the rain had left me drenched from head to toe. I continued forward, my daughter in mind, and tried my best to make it in time for her dismissal. Street after street, I kicked through the water with every step, finally taking a break at a nearby bus stop. As I made necessary phone calls and decisions, a bus appeared from the mist. With traffic hitting a near stand-still, the air conditioning in the automotive built a shiver inside my bones I couldn’t shake for the life of me. New York City was a mess, and as the bus terminated in midtown, I continued forward on foot downtown, hoping that the other lines would take me into Brooklyn. Finally, I reached the appropriate train, one that was sure to take me to my destination, and the minute I took comfort in my seat, the announcement was made. “This train will terminate at 1st Ave. No trains to Brooklyn.” I couldn’t believe it. Having already missed the opportunity to surprise my daughter, I dragged my feet from Alphabet City to Williamsburg, in what seemed like another hour and a half of walking. After leaving my job that morning at 9:30am, I managed to reach Brooklyn at 3:30pm, which put many things in perspective for me. The first: when shit hits the fan, put all the bullshit aside, and work together. The second: we really only have control over our reactions to situations, not the situation themselves. And finally: what we all experienced yesterday was a small taste of how quickly everything can fall apart in today’s world. It’s a strange feeling today, with everything going “back to normal”, but even as I walked the streets with my daughter, I couldn’t forget the images I saw just a few hours ago. New York City under water. It seemed almost sinister, and I’d almost say unnatural.

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