Airport
I watched that girl, that girl at the airport. She couldn’t keep control of her bags – they kept banging against her legs. She was trying to run, trying to go fast, but the bags were slowing her down. Why’s everyone got to be in a hurry? “There’ll always be another train,” my mama used to say. Because that was back in the days when trains were a thing. Big as a building, loud enough to make your head split…