cream-colored tiles

Well it is admittedly already 1/12th or more into tomorrow, but I will still blog about last night because I still remember a bit and it has been a few days. I was in the Hancock village store on a sunny midmorning and bought something and talked with the amicable quasi-elderly cashier, and then I exited onto the street, which ran northeast-southwest and was in fact equivalent to Tremont St, because just beyond store was the entrance to Park St Station and its connection to DTX, and the whole interior of the stations was not particularly subterranean but had some north-facing windows and was tiled on all surfaces (floor, walls, ceiling) with smallish (2″x2″?) cream-colored tiles, like some ginormous, unadorned pool locker room. Of course the concourse also sloped down toward Washington St as IRL. I was able to sort of translate quite quickly in sweeping curves up along the passages, but staying in a standing position, without moving my legs much at all. On reflection this was very similar to snowboarding motion. At this point I didn’t have my contacts in, so I had to be extra careful to watch for obstacles such as the teenage dude who was chilling on the middle of the floor, in addition to passers-by.

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