Life

The train stops and starts, sunny days and rainy afternoons. Trading gold for a smile is costly but it has a side effect called peace of mind, which hits most of the time.

I look around, I imagine and I project emotions and memories onto the lives of these strangers who I will quite possibly see again but never utter a word or acknowledge each other’s existence. Are we real? Or are we simply advertisements on the side of this highway towards our city of Oz?

A long lone rose on a stem, on the floor of this f train and stories of how it ended up there abound. Just another rose, on another train on another day.

I used to say, “one day,” but those days are running out. So I write daily posts to say what I feel as I glide into “60 years on.” I have a strong will to be living for a long time past 60. Who knows? Right? Men make plans and God laughs, right?

Homeless man outside of the coffee shop, smoking and sipping. A well respected man who once could not catch the train anymore and still wears that same suit some years later.