On a Train they call the City of New Orleans...

[dark_mark_hamil]

The eternal shift on pause, I'm left alone with the computer. It's a Guthrie night. Visions of other lives flash through my head, and I wonder why I'm here. My father rode freight trains for nights or weeks at a time. So did his fater. I've dreamed of tramping, jumping a train and never coming home. Many, many, many times. It's always a case

Comments

[kaffeeistgut]

You'd make a good tramp. Not to encourage you toward the life of a solitary nomad, but you would.

But then again, you make a pretty good chef and jack-of-all-trades, too. A moody one, but I've grown to like him.

And don't be too hard on the fridge. Phones are easy to come by, but a good fridge will last you a lifetime or at least 10-15 years if you remember to defrost it biannually.

[kaffeeistgut]

And let's not forget that your compacity for compassion and sensitivity equals that of any superhero, and you're able to do it without the mask and cape. I'll bet Batman wishes he could say that. Unless he just really digs the tights.

Welcome.

[catalina_voice]

I suppose if I break promises to myself I'm not betraying anyone I really care about

Tsk, tsk. S will tell you that I won't let you get away with things like this, but I'm tired and I only know you vicariously through S and I already made several faux pas today, so I'll let it go with a tsk tsk.

I'm glad you joined so that I can check out the person who managed to show up in S's subconscious in a white sundress and straw hat. I once showed up there in a weird pink polyester dress, so this gives us some significant common ground. Now whether S's subconscious is safe ground to tread is another kettle of fish, and I will not explore that question this late. Good night and sweet dreams to you both. :-)