At the Movies
Violins and train whistles, the impatient smiles of lovers, engines throbbing in the
cold air filled with ghosts of steam. Step forward and you step through your own small
world of warmth. In it you were safe.
And the rain begins softly, grows innocent and white, quits knocking at the roof’s
door, and lies down patiently waiting. Now winter has closed down the scene, an old set,
a ghost town, a train depot, the fronts of twenty houses, tracks that end a few hundred feet
into the desert.
But all the goodbyes continue. It’s over again. The lights come on and the credits
roll over the tracks while someone desperate sits hunched in the last row, waiting for the
name of the man who carried the baggage and never spoke.
Rich Ives is the author of Tunneling to the Moon: A Psychological Gardener’s Book of Days currently being published in serial @ Silenced Press everyday in 2014 and forthcoming in paperback. Begin from the beginning, catch up, read daily. Just refer to the Burrow Guide.