tiny travel writing moments

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A Train

The A Train rumbles toward the Far Rockaways. I scrawl in my notebook, pen slipping as we lurch to a stop, rekindle up to speed. People clamber on and a surfboard passes through my periphery. I look up, watch as the surfer strides to the end of the car, leans his bagged board against the glass door. He sits hunched over, baseball cap and blue hoodie, hands clasped, headphones in.

I imagine the long ride to the beach, surrounded by people doing what one does when on the subway: hold the body still while the mind goes elsewhere.

I want to be gregarious, tell him I am one of his people. But I’m tired and have to pee and want much more to simply be home where a surf trek is a short drive to a place where my body moves without ceasing while my mind holds still in the moment.

Airplane haikus

aisle seat row 10
I finished my book too soon
bored, ordered a drink

plane over Utah
window partitions are up
no one wants to see

an upgraded seat
legroom, free movies and booze
offsets impatience

two seats up, over
a trashy show unravels
I’m fascinated

a cheap blue notebook
purchased while drunk in New York
marred by bad haikus

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