A cool mist lands softly on my face like a million tiny snowflakes descending with the sole purpose to grace my presence. The water molecules sit on top of my curls as if inviting my hair to a dance in the air. Before the bus arrives there’s a stillness, like Christmas morning when you see the lights on the tree glowing, you can taste the pound cake sitting pretty on the table behind museum glass case, silent–the tea pot starts to hiss– the train arrives.
Together we ebb and flow with the stops on the route, the webs of our lives connect here on this ride, every face with a different story, a different energy but we are all gathered here today on this journey. Around us life passes by like we’re in the glass cake case, on a pedestal, on display, disengaged, watching the world. Buildings grow up next to those that are young. Events pass by on light poles as the sun chases me through the city.
The a.m. Train 