Gemotions

The gentle rhythm of the train tracks lulled me as I gazed out the window, watching the landscape slowly roll by. The sun was warm on my face, and the gentle rocking motion had a hypnotic effect. I breathed deeply, enjoying the feeling of being in transit, moving forward with no real destination. I’d be meeting up with Greg at the museum. The thought brought an even greater lightness to my mood. When I arrived, I found him at the front desk, not as a curator, but as a security guard. My sense of well-being crumbled.