A new subway entrance has opened in Charlotte, North Carolina. There are no records of a new entrance there being built or approved, or even proposed.
But there it stands, a sign reading "SUBWAY" and a flight of stairs downward.
A new subway entrance has opened in Charlotte, North Carolina. There are no records of a new entrance there being built or approved, or even proposed.
But there it stands, a sign reading "SUBWAY" and a flight of stairs downward.
Is there an entrance if he wants to go further into the building, perhaps, going past the unmanned reception desk?
Click follows him up the stairs. The first door from the stairwell has an electronic lock, and a padlock, and a placard labeling it "PROPHECY".
The second is labeled "NEW CITIZENS", and the third, barely visible from the second landing, is "MAYOR".
Nope! It feels like solid metal. It is very cold, and the bones of his fingers touching it begin to feel like they are buzzing.
Once he lets go, his fingers begin to return to normal.
Door number two actually opens! There is an unattended plastic desk with a display of pamphlets and a box of something orange, with a label saying "Take one!"
It looks like a pile of fabric! Kind of cheap looking, but very brightly dyed orange fabric.
The door opens at his touch, onto a dim hallway, releasing a puff of air that smells like burnt hair and chalk dust.
There's a partially open door halfway down the hall, with a placard reading "CITY COUNCIL MEETING ROOM", and a set of five stairs leading to a door labeled "MAYOR'S OFFICE".
There is a loud crunching noise, followed by a few snaps, from the meeting room, but no response.
A man in a suit and slotted shades, carrying a black case, answers the door. Many voices inside the dark room speak in unison with his, "We have this covered, thanks. If you have an appointment, please wait your turn."
He turns and closes the door, without waiting for a response.
After about half a minute, a similarly attired person opens the door. They give his orange poncho a pointed look, roll their eyes, and say (along with several other voices in the room) "We're busy. Go downstairs for new citizen paperwork."
There is a distinctly prickly and cold feeling that he should walk away from the door, as it slams closed again.
He stumbles back a little, stopping and shaking his head when he's a few feet away.
… Okay, downstairs for new citizen paperwork, sure.