There was so much to write about today.
The first train. Morning full of light and coffee and promise. They a delay and a return. Full circle. A return to the beginning.
The walk back home. The quietness of a lazy Saturday shattered by a belligerent boyfriend, his voice high and shrill and sharp against the towering glass.
The streetcar ride back into the station. A small gaggle of girls giggling their way to a birthday party. Shrieking with surprise at every everydayness. Yelling out the window at a person they know. Passengers unsettled by the chorus of so many young voices.
And now, the second train. The rhythmic back and forth, the smooth and gentle sway. Dim light and the lulling mumble from the other seats. The seductive waltz clicktracking below: click-click-click, click-click-click.
So much to write about, and yet, it’s still just a series of tableaus staring back. Daring me to bring them back to life.
barbara fletcher 