The Chicago Dash

Place:Chicago
Time:1730 hrs

A hotel lobby. A party of nine waited as their luggage are being brought out by the bell-boy. Tension mounted. A train to be caught in half an hour's time. Minutes ticked away. Guilt over spending too much time at the Cheesecake Factory surfaced. Doubts arose; plans were already being made regarding the additional night's stay in the city.
Samuel: Hey this time I really don't think we can make it (See Winter Break:Boston for more details). Shall we call for cabs?
JY: Can one. Don't worry.
The bags emerged. Urgent faces surveyed the bags before scrambling to grab their own belongings. The group of nine rushed out of the hotel thereafter in hushed silence, heading toward the subway station.

1745hrs

Standing on the platform, anguished faces hope forlornly for the orange line train to arrive. It was then that they realized a universal truth: the more eager you want something, the lesser the chances that it will appear. It seems someone was playing a cruel joke on them, plotting their missing the second amtrak ride in three days.

1750hrs

Aboard the subway, catching the amtrak train seemed a lost cause. There was almost no way that they could arrive at Quincy station (4 stops away), and walk 4 blocks to the Amtrak station in ten minutes.
JY: No problem, all we have to do is run. Let us show you what army training is about.
Bags were passed around. The guys would carry all the bags in order to ensure that the girls can run alongside them. JY and Nansi were to rush to the station as fast as possible.

1755hrs
Approaching Quincy Station. Bags were tightened. Adrenalin started kicking in.

1756hrs
The doors open. The mad rush commenced. The group ran, racing against time. They ran as if their lives depended on it. Across heavy traffic and on coming pedestrains, they heaved and they puffed.

1805hrs
Entering the station, they made a beeline for gate F, the designated entrance for their train, only to be rudely shocked at the sight of a crowded waiting area outside gate F. Flushed faces, coughing away from the run in the cold weather, struggled to come to terms with the sight. The train has been delayed, some kind soul told them. 1830hrs is the new departure time. A flood of relief overcame them. The run was in vain, afterall. But what a good run it was.