sitting on the chicago/franklin platform to catch a breath
20 trains come and go, lugging busy people along with them.
face down, sandals off, eyes closed.
settled down on that cold bench .. I wait.
when finally, finally- a man touches my shoulder and asks that one question my soul was longing for.
retch.
retch!? barf, yak, ralph. this post was nice. good prose. but the ending threw me. per usual. porque senorina, porque
ReplyDeleteits because i actually threw up.
ReplyDeleteon the Chicago/Franklin train platform.