Tiniest of spiders

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 conductor said, "We don't know anything," and then the last holdouts and I gave up and sloshed through the ankle-deep water in the station to find another way home. Some were sharper about this than others, some hit a wall and lost their ability to reason.

By then the storm had passed, but the signal problems persisted and anyway there were downed trees on the tracks somewhere out west, and no one in the Garden State has ever lifted a tree off the tracks in less a day. Two days is some kind of record. This is one of two states in the country where you cannot pump your own gas, or do self-check-out at the library (quips your husband).

Every time I do something new, I say, "THIS is the hardest thing I've ever done." "No, THIS." "I mean, THIS, for real THIS."

I may be a more conscientious phone zombie than the others – I don't scroll while walking on train platforms or on the stairs, but I am still a phone zombie to some extent and I resolve to change.

I love the way the British make certain words plural, for example, they might say, "Citi[bank] are usually good with these things," instead of "Citi is."

I do not like, "Let's double-click on that."

I'm in desperate need of recharging my battery, replenishing my well, I'm trying to hit a book event or a museum or a concert in a small venue, three weeks out of four. I carry a notebook and pens even if most days I only hold them in my lap and write nothing.

At home the tiniest of spiders is spinning a web off our hot water faucet in the bathroom. Blue jays bathe in the backyard, hummingbirds take pulls at the feeder. And rabbit ears translucent in the sun.

If tomorrow morning you think, however fleetingly, "I should wash my hair," wash your hair.

NEWSY STUFF

I signed up to read at the Remembering 9/11 gathering at Stuyvesant High School on September 9th. The first invitation, some weeks ago, offered the option of "maybe," in addition to "yes" and "no," and I said "maybe," then, and now, I've upgraded myself to a "yes." I'm thinking about what to read. I like that they had "maybe" as an option, it might be a best practice event planning thing, or it might be particular to the content and context of this particular event. Anyway, if you attend, please say hello.

If you've read "Junco and Wolf" in issue No. 33 of A Public Space magazine, I would love to know what you thought of the story! Just hit reply to this email or email kasia.nikhamina (at) gmail (dot) com

Divinity School • a letter every Sunday at sunset • if you’re always looking, after some time you’ll have seen