Oh, last week I bumped into a guy in the subway who had a tiny, glittery drum set strapped to his backpack. He was juggling the subway lights, the train’s vibrations, and his own drumbeats like it was a tightrope act. The whole platform turned into an impromptu rhythm concert—people started clapping, strangers started dancing, and the train’s horn sounded like applause. I snapped a quick pic of him in mid‑beat, the subway lights painting his face like a moving canvas. The chaos was already brewing, and the whole corner felt like a circus before the first big roar.

It was wild— the train’s horns started syncing with his snare, so it was like the whole thing was a drumline. Right when the train pulled into the station, a couple of commuters who’d been watching hopped on the platform, started clapping and one even tossed a spare beat drumstick they’d found in a pocket. They all kept the rhythm for a few minutes after the doors closed, so the train was literally a moving percussion band. When the train finally left, the platform was still echoing the beat, like a little encore that left everyone grinning and a little out of breath.