Dear Diary:
On a recent Saturday night, nee, Sunday morning, after a night of waiting tables in Times Square, I descended into the Times Square subway station to find a suspiciously packed platform, and, having just reached the end, heard the dreaded announcement that the 1 train was delayed because of a faulty uptown switch.
Desperate to catch the 1:30 Staten Island Ferry home, I took action and weaved my way back through the crowd, to the N/R line.  Standing on the foreign platform, wiping the sweat from my brow, I checked my watch, again and again, until zero hour had passed, and I knew my fate rested in the hands of a 2:30 boat.
Spirits deflated, consumed with exhaustion, I noticed the dripping tar on the platform surface in front of me: a sunflower!
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