If the Earth stopped spinning we would all just float away into space. This is what I think as I wait for the pedestrian light to go green. I imagine the people around me losing their grip on the pavement, screaming as they detach from the ground, as the cars and bikes slowly trickle up, following them into the sky.
To my side, several commuters with indistinct white collar jobs stare down at their smartphones. All of them uber-serious, of course: if there’s one rule to city life it’s that in the morning everyone has to look like they’re going places. I spot a lady on the other side of the street as she waits to cross. Our eyes meet briefly; she’s the only who seems amused, lost somewhere in her thoughts.
The light turns green and we all advance, politely avoiding the physical touch of strangers. I ask myself: where the hell are we all going anyway?
She scanned the line of faces on the other side of the street. Among them, a kid wearing thick-rimmed glasses and carrying a backpack. He was probably still in high school but something about him looked old. Sad perhaps, or melancholic. Their eyes met and she looked away.
A random thought popped in her mind: all the people around her floating up into the sky, their arms and feet flailing stupidly in the air. She giggled before forcing her face back to neutral. The light turned green and she stepped forward, obeying the unforgiving motion of the crowd.