Eccentric Flower:199809/i seldom dream of trains
From Eccentric Flower
«September 1998 «Eccentric Flower
 |
thirty september ninety eight noon i seldom dream of trains Today is payday. Time for a Real Lunch. I am so tired of fast food that it's becoming difficult to find a place where I'm willing to eat lunch. Last night I dreamed I was standing on a platform in an empty train station in the middle of the night. There was no schedule and I had no idea which train to take. So I decided to just get on the first train going in my direction. There was no one else in my car of the train. The conductor came along, and I found that all my money was missing. I had only coins. It had been there before .... They stopped the train and put me out. Standing on the rails, watching the lights of the train recede into the darkness. I walked to the next station - or maybe it was the one I had come from. It was the Fordham Road station. Why hadn't I seen the sign before? I was obviously trying to go to New York. The driver of the next train seemed to know me. He let me on and greeted me warmly. His name was Daniel Boulud [the real D.B. is a famous chef in NYC] and he looked just like the French actor Richard Bohringer. We began the long underground section leading into Grand Central ... then the train turned, as if we were being shunted off into another tunnel. Then we stopped. Daniel explained that there was blockage on the line. No one knew what to do. Eventually I left the train and went out into the tunnel. I moved conduits and debris from in front of the train, working in the beam of its huge headlight. The conduits hissed steam and were covered with black oily muck which got all over me. Back on the train, everyone congratulated me as if I had done something heroic. We ran out of fuel as we pulled up to the platform. Daniel was philosophical about this. If I had to guess, I'd say my brain was sweeping out the debris of all my internet-related angst from last week. I do feel better now. I wrote a Circular Cruise about Yom Kippur this morning. I suspect Shmuel is orthodox enough that he won't be reading it today; nonetheless, it's dedicated to him.
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