29 March 2013
On the train on the way to visit Annie and Todd and Emmet. Dark leaving the house. Everything familiar looks a little strange. “I think we’re just driving in circles.”
Coffee at the station. City buildings sharp against the lightening sky. Teresa sits with us on the train for a few minutes, gets us situated, and then goodbye. “When is it going to go?” And then it does, at first so you can barely tell, then definitely moving, then faster, across the Sacramento River on an old industrial-looking bridge. “I think I might be afraid of heights.” Backyards, streets, then rice fields with every furrow casting a clear shadow.
Yesterday I said to Enzo, “We’re going on a journey tomorrow.”
“It’s not a journey.”
“A journey is like–a destiny.”
“Oh. Well what are we going on?”
“It’s a trip.”