A vignette by Editor-in-Chief Jacob Landau, ’22
I’ve never seen the wonders of an Aquarium on a weeknight; perhaps only when the weather has been too treacherous have I wanted to go. Who would bother to waste their energy climbing through the snow onto the purple line, among strangers, only to watch the fish in their foreign land? And even so, why subject yourself to such horrors on the train to get there? The T, among strangers, is of the most chaos in its joint captivity; everyone is stuck in a foreign place until they have an opportunity to leave. Amongst strangers every individual is alone. But among a search for swimming fish we are suddenly together. The T smells strongly of bland chaos in the sweaty marks of those past.