"Backwards Day"

4/29/2026

On Monday, April 28th, the southbound Metro North train to Grand Central ran on Track 1 instead of Track 2, which was pretty confusing.

The world felt backwards yesterday — like stepping into a twisted Twilight Zone where the rules you rely on quietly rearrange themselves overnight. What had worked the day before suddenly didn’t. Even the trains were confused. Instead of running southbound to New York on Track 2, as they always do, everything had shifted to Track 1. If you didn’t hear the announcement — and most people didn’t — you would’ve stood on the river side as usual and watched your train glide right past you on the opposite platform.

The whole thing felt off, awkward, slightly tilted. And for once, I swear, people here were in a mood. Faces tightened, shoulders hunched, everyone radiating that low‑grade irritation that spreads through a crowd like static. And when you’re Black, you feel that shift immediately — the way tension in a space can land on you first, even when no one says a word. It’s the kind of thing no one wants to talk about, think about, or acknowledge, but there it was, humming under the surface.

I felt it all the way into the city — that strange, unsettled energy, as if the day itself had woken up on the wrong track.

Some days just arrive crooked, and all you can do is move through them gently, hoping tomorrow remembers how to run on the right track