Morgan Mandel As I join the band of commuters waiting for the commuter train to pull into the station, my senses go into full alert. I hear a roar from overhead and glance up to see a silver plane fly over the clear blue sky. An aroma of what might be donuts baking wafts from the grocery store nearby. Two commuters talk to each other. I feel the weight of my computer case on my right shoulder and my purse on my left. As the train draws closer, the brakes hiss. I wrinkle my nose at the not-so-pleasant odor of what smells like burning rubber. On the train, I hear the motor running, the thumping of wheels over tracks, newspapers rattling, voices in conversation. I look out the window to see cars on the expressway. Today they're moving briskly, but that's not always the case. Sometimes they crawl or even stop. I see a building which looks like a cathedral, some condos with signs on the side advertising lofts available, also signs on the expressway indicating exits and street names....