Assistant Station Master Cory Harris shut the doors on Grand Central Station yesterday morning and opened the gates to my soul. With his outfit. With his arms. The hands and wrists. With his firm-looking competency. With his solid shoes and his too-big jacket. With the throwback of it all. The throws back. The colors. The simple matter-of-fact. The whole air of the thing.
He's on my desktop now.
I love Assistant Station Master Cory Harris. Assistant Station Master of My Heart.