Member-only story
Shifting Timetables
Coping Strategies
Might as well unpack the bags. The man at the front desk said there are no trains this evening.
Nor will there be any.
Ever.
He was removing the clock that hung behind the desk.
This is home from now on.
Those of us who have a room are the lucky ones—there are no more vacancies anywhere between here and there. Dark clouds are moving in.
A red-cap’d bellhop was helping an old woman in a wheelchair with her oxygen tank. I had to walk down and up— seems there’d been a fire in the elevator.
They’ve got someone on the telegraph non-stop trying to get through, but it’s really just for appearances.
The shops are going to close soon—the horse drawn vegetable cart was already heading off down the street.
They were serving a late lunch and a few of the tables were occupied. The way the diners sat, either looking deeply into each others eyes, holding hands, or nervously glancing around to see what others were doing—well, it was quite clear that everyone was trying to find their own way to deal with the situation.
Even the fish in that huge tank seemed to be swimming erratically.
