Trains. I’ve been on this one before. There had been obstruction on the track—for an hour at a time we were unable to go forward and forbidden to go back. The grinding, halting progress became painful. I recall buying a deck of cards in the club car, and that had helped a little. Rules and turns shaped the time. No stakes, no cheats.
Farmland. Jackrabbit hurrying over stubbly pasture full of oblivious goats. Tract housing like an invasive species of lichen grown up on the bareness. On the other side, fruit trees. Now cactus, now fields flashing with standing water between the rows. Ditches. Trailers. Brittle trees. Angus. Did I see any of this back then? I can’t remember. Now folded chaparral hills still hazy in the cool.
This time, no delays, and I will meet myself at the station.
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