I notice that it does not smell purely of summer anymore. I don't know. Then I realized that I spent all of summer moving, adjusting, creating a new home, getting acquainted with a new place. Nothing wrong with that, except that it just feels like it all happened too fast. Especially when I'm out on the train traveling, and everything around me still looks different.
People remain still, while train is in motion.
Like a single pear in a saucer amidst a collage of troubled background, as in a Salvador Dali painting. I feel, while aboard the train, that the quiet of the passengers against the din of the engine somehow echoes what I feel inside. Oh, how the mind wanders. As I look up, I see the ceiling high above me, too high in fact that it looks like another world up there. Overhead spotlights and massive beams painted in deep forest green.