A tad bit smaller than Grand Central Station and encompasses a more welcoming feeling, there I was. I walked up the stairs off the train. Philadelphia. My first time visiting and had an overwhelming mixture of emtions. Traveling alone has never scared me. My persona seems to attract and I enjoy that. He got up to throw away his trash. If you look to the right as we go over this bridge, you can see the NYC skyline. I smiled, nodded, and thanked him. I already knew the information he was giving me but I was so amused by the fact that I was going to have a tour guide for the next couple of hours that I just let him think he'd taught me something new. My thoughts... he lives for that. He was a frequent traveler, I could tell. The employees on the train knew him. "Where are you going young lady?" he asked. I smiled, sat proud, "Philadelphia" I said. He didn't ask me what I was going for or why I was alone. I think he had already created his own version of my story... and in fear of ruining that, he avoided the truth. Maybe his story was right on, maybe it was far off. He was interesting. Probably near about 65 years old. His hat had a feather in it, it was, for some reason, comforting... his feather in his hat. Why? I'm not too sure... maybe he reminded me of someone.. I don't know. We had a great conversation about the history of Pennslyvania until he left me in Newark Penn Station. So from there I rode alone, in silence, to think about the events that would take place over the next couple of days.
Never had I thought it would be so perfect.