Personal Narrative: Charley's Journey
Being a psychiatrist, I have heard a lot of crazy stories, but my friend Charley’s story is by far the craziest. I was sitting at my brown wooden desk in my small lavender smelling office when I heard a knock at the door. Knock. Knock. Immediately, Charley walked in wearing a tan gabardine suit, and a straw hat with a fancy black band. He had a smile from ear to ear and would not stop talking about the third level at Grand Central Station. A few minutes later, Charley asked, “Do you believe in time travel?” before I could answer he shouted, “Well I do! I was transported to 1894, but when I tried to purchase two coach tickets to Galesburg, Illinois, I didn’t have the right currency. Therefore, I went to the bank and drew out $300 and went to the nearest coin dealer and got less than $200 in old-time
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I was headed to Grand Central Station to catch a train going to my house, and saw that the next train was in two hours. My jaw dropped to the floor. “I can look for the Third Level,” I whispered to myself. I ran to the bank to withdraw all of my money, then ran to the coin dealer and bought eight hundred dollars worth of old-time currency. I rode the bus back to Grand Central Station to look for the Third Level. Not long after that, I arrived at Grand Central. I looked for about an hour until I came upon a door with the words “Do Not Enter,” I had to go in! I opened the metal door, “screech.” A cold burst of air came towards my face. I walked down a silent narrow hallway, then took a sharp left. Lastly, I went down a short staircase and I was on the third level at Grand Central Station. I was greeted by a young man in a ticket booth lit up by open flame gas lights. The young man looked at me for a while. Moments later, he told me the price of a one-way ticket to Galesburg, Illinois.
“That will be seven dollars sir,” the young man said politely. I nodded slightly as I handed the money to the
I was headed to Grand Central Station to catch a train going to my house, and saw that the next train was in two hours. My jaw dropped to the floor. “I can look for the Third Level,” I whispered to myself. I ran to the bank to withdraw all of my money, then ran to the coin dealer and bought eight hundred dollars worth of old-time currency. I rode the bus back to Grand Central Station to look for the Third Level. Not long after that, I arrived at Grand Central. I looked for about an hour until I came upon a door with the words “Do Not Enter,” I had to go in! I opened the metal door, “screech.” A cold burst of air came towards my face. I walked down a silent narrow hallway, then took a sharp left. Lastly, I went down a short staircase and I was on the third level at Grand Central Station. I was greeted by a young man in a ticket booth lit up by open flame gas lights. The young man looked at me for a while. Moments later, he told me the price of a one-way ticket to Galesburg, Illinois.
“That will be seven dollars sir,” the young man said politely. I nodded slightly as I handed the money to the