today i paid attention to the far side of the Fort Pitt Tunnel. you round a corner and everyone changes lanes, inevitably wanting to be where someone else inevitably is. there's a gash cut into the mountain, a hole in the side of the hill, a rectangular portal beneath a rectangular frame. the all-consuming hill is covered in trees with no leaves, revealing the tiny house above. to the right, the icicle waterfalls remind the drivers that climate control is a myth, not reality, and nature in all her glory remains.
into the portal. sucked through a wormhole of blinding light, brighter than the setting sun behind us. it extends forever--time has no meaning. will we emerge?
rather than a light at the end of the tunnel, there is yellow, but steel. the frame of the bridge comes into view first, the relief of an outside. beyond, speeding toward us, there is city: buildings and rivers and history and life.
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