I wake up with the rain on my window. I wake up feeling the cold outside my window. I'm procrastinating about going downtown and standing around to watch a president-elect who happens to be from my hometown whom I don't support get inaugurated. And it's supposed to snow later.
Parades mean horses and convertibles with waving hands and floats and shiners in little cars.
And this parade only happens every four years. Taking a video camera is a last-minute decision, so it only gets charged for 20 minutes. I end up never getting a shot of the new president on it anyway, as the charge ran out way before he showed up. I stuff a book and the camera into my jacket pockets and take off, playing with my keys and glancing back at my door, looking for something to forget. The train pulled up, already turned around on its last and first stop on the yellow line, with plenty of room to settle down and time to take out my book just before it pulled away again.