Daniel writes a headline about a "resigned" local taking the train to the end of childhood. He admits he's being dramatic, but he feels as though he's speeding towards a miserable adulthood. He feels as though he'll never read or write poetry again and, instead, will have deep thoughts on serious subjects.
Daniel's dramatic nature is a testament to his poetic nature. He also seems to believe that there's no middle ground between being a doctor and being a poet, leaving him room for growth.
Daniel works on his poem. With three stops to go, the train stops. The lights go out, and after five minutes, the conductor gets on the loudspeaker. He begins preaching to his passengers, explaining his own religious experience and encouraging his passengers to accept God. When one man yells for the conductor to drive the train, the conductor goes silent. After a minute, the train moves to the Times Square station. Before he opens the doors, the conductor tells his passengers that the train is now out of service, and they should all go look for God. Daniel muses that there's no time in anyone's schedule to find God.
To many people, the conductor's odd behavior would seem to be just that—an odd blip in their day with little consequence. However, it's worth noting that the conductor is trying very hard to cultivate relationships with his passengers, with God, and between God and his passengers. The apparent lack of enthusiasm for the conductor's approach suggests that not everyone is open to or wanting this kind of connection.