Sunday, February 4, 2018

All Is Forgiven

Stuck in the darkness of the tunnel, on the way into Manhattan, time passing, anxiety rising as I grow increasingly late. Finally the train begins to move.

As we begin to slowly climb the bridge into the sunny blue sky over the river, maintenance men pause in their work on the tracks (the same work that's been causing us to creep along for the last twenty minutes) to watch us pass. One worker in particular leans against a  trestle, exhaustion slackening his expression to bone-weary neutral, and the sight of his weariness unclenches the frustration that has been building in my chest, leaving me free to watch with gratitude the sun glittering the water beneath us.
One year ago: Alarmed
Two years ago: Why Downtown?
Three years ago: Full Moon
Four years ago: Timor Mortis Conturbat Me
Seven years ago: What Goes Around Comes Around
Ten years ago: Accordion Sweetness

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