commute – Page 5 – tinfoilparachute

I’m home.

Right now all I want is to be in the mountains, and for it to be still.

It’s a kind of perfect morning that would make the word “dappled” stuck in my head for the rest of the day.

Some soft spoken Germans and their louder American friends?coworkers? are on a jam-packed delayed train next to me. They are wearing shirts from some other charity race in UAE and are going to a 5K race in my park and are joking whether they are going to a race or a beach, which is where this train line terminates. And about how they are definitely going out for a beer after.
They get off before my stop but I still have two more to go. I do have beer in the fridge, nice microbrew from upstate, and Swedish cider, but I know drinking it will be a mistake and so I won’t.

I’m sitting next to a very tall and fit man in a not-especially well-fitting pinstriped suit, jacket neatly folded on his lap, with a NYPD lapel pin prominently visible. There would be nothing particularly extraordinary about this man, not his closely-shaved head, nor his november-ocean-colored eyes, but his gray mustache is truly luxuriant. It takes years, and a lot of care, to grow and maintain a mustache like that. That’s when I notice his elaborate goth-like rings. He does not belong in this world, I decide.

I am now going to close my eyes and imagine what would happen next if i were at a start of a Neil Gaiman’s book.