My face was practically pressed against the glass. Through the train window I could see the green hills roll by. Then a factory perched atop one, past the old Busch plant that had been closed for years. Finally the sea came into view and the amusement pier was faintly visible.
One more stop after this.
As the train slowed to the platform I tried to gather all of my things, unsure of how I’d make it out the door on time with all of this crap. A large black valise containing a change of clothes and a few books, my over-sized purse and a black leather jacket.
The woman in the seat next to mine asked how many more stops it was to the zoo. I looked over and said that she may be on the wrong train. Feeling badly (guilt about things that aren’t my fault is a specialty) I tried to grab my belongings while climbing over her, her son and the two seats between myself and the aisle.
The train had stopped and the doors opened. Suddenly that feeling of being underwater occurred. The slow motion feeling of being in a dream.
How in hell would I make it to the platform before the train took off again? Struggling with the bags and jacket it seemed like forever to pass through the rows of passengers and seats. Finally I emerged from the car and ambled to the station. After crossing the worn green tiles and emerging from the building I could see the steep hill ahead.
The hill that wound and curved upwards towards my house. Almost there I considered, and began the long walk.