The sensation struck him as he was working on the numbers. He had been doing numbers for the past thirty-five years. It started from his chest then it spread to his abdomen then down to his legs and his fingertips. It was a soft kind of rumble, like a tingling but much subtler and gentler. He had not felt this way for as long as he remembered. He got up from his chair and started for the coffee machine, but when he got to the pantry, he changed his mind and kept walking. He walked past the managers' offices, the receptionist who gave him a strange look and out the door. His briefcase, his lunch box, his coffee mug all still at his desk like soldiers on duty, anxious to be of some kind of use. All he had on him was his wallet, but the feeling was so strong, he kept going. he hit the down button for the elevator and when it arrived he got in without hesitation. It did not strike him as strange that at ten-thirty in the morning when he should be working numbers he was instead leaving his office building.

The morning sky was beautiful at ten-thirty on a wednesday, but the people he passed by on the streets seemed not to notice the sky or him or anything. They were all busy in their own thoughts. He had not idea where he was going, all he was sure of was the feeling warming his chest spreading up to the root of his hair. And that his legs were leading him and all he had to do was to follow. It was a feeling of security familiar to children, but for a man of forty-seven, it was strange as it was assuring for a child.

He had trouble walking. It had to do with his weight. He knew he was overweight and sometimes people gave him unpleasant looks on crowded trains or in restaurants. The waitresses were especially accusing when they took his order. It was as if his wanting to purchase food was indulging in some great personal evil that they were ashamed of being an accomplice in. For the longest time he could not see any priviledge to being fat. People assumed a lot of things when they saw his size, his belly hanging low, his waddle. But now he understood the beauty of obesity, it is privacy that the world afforded him in moments like this. No one gave him any attention, they steered clear of his path. And that morning, it was as if the sun was shining for him alone and the road glistened under his feet only for his eyes.

He followed his legs. They brought him to the train station. They skipped down stairs with a lightness that surprised even himself. Then the legs just stopped right at the platform. He watched people come and go with the passing trains and his legs remained still. He found himself a seat on a stone bench and just waited. People rushed in and out of the train doors. They all seemed to have a blindness to them that had little to do with being underground. They dashed around madly, and the trains rushed in through one end of the tunnel and left. He just sat and watched. THings, people moving into and out of view, the world forever in motion. That warm feeling that had summoned him here had faded a little. He started wondering at the strangeness of it all.

An emergency phone sat beside him. Above it was a huge sign that said: Only for emergency use. The sign was red and obnoxious, but the phone itself was a quiet navy blue. It hung lonely and still on the wall. He had always wondered what kind of a voice would be at the end of a phone like that. Then that same feeling drove him to pick up the phone. He had expected the feeling to be exhiliarating--doing something illogical and illegal. But it all felt quite normal. It was merely a phone with a sign above it.

A strong vibrant voice that he attached to a face of a sturdy black woman picked up the call. "Yes, how can I assist you? What seems to be the problem."

He stuttered a little from the confusion of having nothing to say. "Nothing is the matter. It's just that I...it's all going to sound very strange to you."

"Sir, is this a matter of emergency?"

He could detect a hint of irritation in the voice. "I wouldn't say so, no."

"Then, why, may I ask are you using the station's emergency phone? "

He had no answer to that, so he stayed silent.

"This phone is reserved for use in case of emergency. "

Then there was a silent. Both of them now had run out of things to say. He had revealed that there was no emergency and she had stated clearly that the phone was only to be used in the case of one.

"Should I put down the phone?" He asked doubtfully.

She said nothing but he imagined a irritated grimace on her face. She must be thinking he was such an idiot.

"You should be fined five hundred dollars to teach you a lesson."

She waited for a response but he was silent.

:"Is this some kind of a cheap thrill for you?"

"No, not really, no" he tried to find words to explain himself "Quite honestly, I don't know why I did it."

There was an expectant silence on the other end, so he continued. "I had this strange feeling that took me from work this morning and brought me here. That same feeling made me pick up this phone."

The voice muttered a disbeliving "hmm"

"It is so nice out. I have never noticed the world outside at ten thirty. I am usually so busy working, I don't see the sky until it gets dark. I never knew that this phone existed until today."

There was a sigh at the other end of the line. "Next time, do not use this phone unless it is a matter of urgency. I usually give citations for offense like this, but I'm going to let you off this time. Don't pick up this phone again, you understand?"

He nodded, but before he could say anything. The woman hung up. He put down the receiver and sat drinking in the vibration of constant movements and the slight rumbling of trains that trailed and hung in the air like a signature.

Grace, put down the phone. Marcus, a station security, walked into the station information booth. He was a big Latino who looked like he could rip a phone directory in two. He watched her face.

"What happened?"

Grace shook her head " just a weirdo."

Marcus rubbed his eyebrow as he watched his own reflection on the glass of the information booth. "The city is full of them."

Grace nodded. She looked outside. It was ten-fifty. Indeed, she thought, the sky is beautiful.