I saw an awful lot of decorative marble above and beside me and the chandeliers were shaking wildly. I strunched myself up into a small alcove in the wall that seemed to provide some protection from anything that might fall.

Decorative lenses on the huge hanging chandelies started to pop out. A few of the glass lenses also fell out and shattered on the roadway.

Because I was looking down the length of the roadbed, I could see a wave rolling through the concrete bed. Right when it was fully in play, a southbound bus pulled in across from me. I could see a good deal of confustion among the full load of riders who seemed to slowly realize that this was something more than just a too-quick stop by the driver.

Sitting in that cubby-whole, it seemed to have taken a lot longer than the official length. I finally rushed out and mingled along with those workers near the Paramount who had been up in the unfinished Elliot Hotel.

I walked far enough up the street to get a view of the brick building I live in. I was surprised to see that it was still standing, but I was afraid to get any closer, so I got on the next bus to Bellevue once they had started running again.

The weird thing was that customers kept trickling in to shop, even though the floor was slick as ice and the entire staff was on all fours. One well dressed woman carrying shopping bags stood in front of the spice and chocolate counter, stunned looking, reflexively obeying her bodies need to seek normalcy and shop during a crisis. She stared at me blankly across the counter for a while, eventually bought a half pound of Valrohna and then wobbled out the door.