The desperate masses run through the confined maze, yelling, screaming. Some urge their compatriots forward. Others, seeing their chances diminishing with the relentless movement of the clock, think only of themselves. As the desperation increases the crowd becomes a thing, consuming itself, falling, rising, regenerating again into a wave of human movement, cruelty and lunacy. Soon, only running feet can be discerned. Wild eyes. Crushed flesh against flesh. A woman falls, abandoned by her husband who looks back with scorn. A child cries pitifully, ignored. The Fall of Saigon? Iraq? The Killing Fields? Rwanda? No, nothing that horrific... This was just the E concourse in Charlotte at 10 PM.
Posted on: Sat, 28 Jun 2014 15:22:21 +0000
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