A few years ago when MTA drivers were on strike, I had to take an alternate route to work. This route involved taking a Torrance bus to Union Station, catching the Metrolink to Santa Fe Springs, and then catching a Norwalk bus to campus. It was a hastle, but there were benefits. One of those benefits was a coffee and fresh bagel from Union Bagel every morning. Another was the station itself. I love Union Station; it is beautiful, historical, and full of people just passing through.
There is something about a space like that. The great majority are just passing through. Some pass through nearly everyday, commuting to and from work or school. Others may pass through only once. Their voices echo through the grand halls of this space. The memory of them is seen in the worn floor tiles and seats. Yet, the space itself remains much as it has been for years. It is the strange intersection of past and present. It is beautiful, yet worn.
The world is like that.
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