Subterranean

This is what greets me when I arrive for work every morning. Extraordinary, I think, but one gets used to it; some mornings, I don't even notice it. Despite the yellow pillars, it's a cold place bereft of humanity. The sounds of footsteps in high heels echo. I don't see who is walking. It's a broad lonely space . . . How much of the land beneath Sydney looks exactly like this? How have we changed our world to suit the car?