Trains, real and imagined, float around in my brain. There's the apocryphal childhood story of a boy who crossed the tracks too late and lost both legs. Or the train that I took with my grandmother to Kansas City to see a doctor who would diagnose her cancer as untreatable. Or the 3:00 AM train that roared past the bedroom window of our small garage apartment in Ft. Worth. Or the train to LA that empties passengers into Union Station with its Dutch Colonial, Moderne, and Mission Revival Style.
2 comments:
Trains, real and imagined float around in my brain too. When I was a kid, I'd take the bus into LA and sit in those big cracked leather chairs at Union Station and just watch the people come and go. I'd pretend my train was coming at any moment.
I think train travel is the very best. Part of it, I feel, is that you are both confined and have a lot of freedom to move around. And its somehow romantic, thanks, perhaps, to all those train related movies.
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