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Last Train to Nowhere
She didn’t know how she got to the train station. There was a vague memory of walking in the foggy morning, between the dirt road and the train tracks, ticket in her hands. A train pulled in as the sun rose, but it wasn’t the right one. Not that she had any reason in thinking so, it just didn’t feel right to rush on it along with the men in suits holding briefcases. They weren’t going to wherever she needed to go. Another train came and went, more people getting on, some stepping off. Couples, more men in suits, families, solo travelers. Nobody noticed her standing on the platform in…
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real or not real?
Today I turned down all the lights, shut the buzzing air conditioning unit off, laid on the white duvet I once found comforting and safe. I used to love the empty promises and quiet monotony of hotel rooms: beige walls and confusing light switches, dry soap bars, and thin carpet. On the inside of the blackout curtains, I could have no idea where in the world I was. It was once my favorite feeling. Long days, short nights, and seeing you in the dimly lit hotel bar, waiting for me. I never knew where it’d be, or how often. The mystery made it fun. I’d come back from a panel…