Eavesdropping and sunlight on a train
when overheard words and a beam of light get my pen moving
PROLOGUE
Last week, I had the extreme fortune of being able to present my “Unafraid Storyteller” writing retreat at the iconic Omega Institute in central New York. Getting to Omega from my home in Wyoming is a two day journey that involves planes, trains and automobiles - unfortunately, without the late 80’s energy of Steve Martin and John Candy.
I flew into New York at an unholy late hour on Wednesday evening due to delays that the thick canopy of wildfire smoke caused Laguardia Airport. I checked into my hotel at around midnight, got about five hours of sleep, and then hopped on a train at Penn Station to get me to Rhinecliff, NY.
It must be admitted that I was VERY excited to be getting on a train. Almost giddy. My Uber driver who was getting me to the station picked up on my energy early on in the patented awkward conversation I always have with any other human I am meeting for the first time.
“Ever been on a train before?” he asked as our car entered the teeth of Manhattan traffic.
“Oh yeah! I love it!” I shouted (why was I shouting?) like a serial killer.
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