Those first few weeks getting used to that new commute were awful. How does one describe what it felt like to be led with millions of others onto those platforms below ground and wait for the shiny new trains to pull up, except to say that it was prison? Prison. We were like cattle down there, like internees, like human data being poured into a human spreadsheet, huge, unknowable and orchestrated from afar. On these treks, I had come to learn just how brief twenty minutes truly was. In my old life, twenty minutes got me all the way to work if I walked fast enough. Now, twenty minutes got me only to my first transfer point. Five other twenty-minute periods awaited me as I made my immense, ridiculous slog through the subterranean maze of our city’s new transit system.
The worst part was
