"We're moving!"
"Why are we stopping?"
"Where are the people?"
"We're moving again!"
"What if the train gets kicked off the tracks?"
[inaudible]
"Why?"
– Friday morning on the Montclair-Boonton line
Thanks for sticking with me through these lean times. Stronger stuff is coming. My brain feels like a tomato thrown against a wall, and there's steel wool in my throat, but these things, too, shall pass.
a woman reaches down to slip off one red shoe, and then the next. She keeps walking down Fifth Avenue in the abating rain, shoes in one hand, umbrella in the other. Earlier in the day, before the rain, a man walking three collie mixes complimented her glasses and her
A concert in an atrium on Broadway. The air-conditioning is very good, it's the first time I've felt cold enough in weeks. A lovely intimate concert, a violinist we softly know, and a cellist. They are going to play Tessellatum by Donnacha Dennehy, accompanied by
The week started with the conductor losing his hat, and ended with a thunderstorm that stalled the train in Hoboken. Fifteen minutes turned into an hour, but the air-conditioning worked and I had juice and wifi, so I stayed put. Then the hour turned into two, and finally the
"You already did the hardest part," says the conductor on the 7:44 to Hoboken, "you got out of bed," and the train car murmurs in collective agreement. I do not have a lot to say this week, I mean, I worked a lot, and on