It was the roar of an electric beast, the moan of a mechanical monster, the clamor of eight hundred and fifty thousand pounds of brittle steel thundering through the pitch-black underground tunnels of the City of the American Dream; the 5:30 C train was making its way to Uptown Manhattan.

Sitting in the belly of the beast, I felt the pressure of the heat of hundreds of bodies packed together in rush hour traffic. The people were everywhere. The place was so crowded that I could only see their bodies in parts. I saw an arm clothed in a pinstripe suit, fingers embraced by three shiny rings as silver as the pole they were clutching, shoulders whose muscles strained to hold the weight of the book bag slung across them.

I smelled the beast, so much so that my nose was overwhelmed by the intermingling odors of its unfortunate victims. The rancid stench of the unwashed homeless bodies mixed together with the stink of the sweat trickling down the backs of the blue-collars: the plumbers and nannies, the builders and movers. And barely, just barely, I could catch whiffs of the remnants of morning cologne lingering on a suit jacket.

The beast was a being like no other. Only here, in the gut of this automated creature, would a high-tax-bracket corporate attorney allow her body to be pressed against the chest of a homeless single mother whose only possessions were stuffed into an oversized garbage bag squished between her parted legs. It was only here where a start-up CEO would consent to sit on a seat not leather, not cushioned, but a bright orange plastic.

The beast, its wheels rattling against the iron tracks, laughed at our oblivious submission. For had we not purposefully strode through its open-mouthed metal doors? Had we not made prey of ourselves? We had, and so the beast consumed us. It thrived on the monotony of our nine to five schedule, it feasted on the regret of dreams placed aside for a tomorrow that would never come.

Poor fools, we were! We had given up so much – our pride, fresh air, and a $2.75 fare – just for a ride home.