Sea in my ears, foxes cross my toes (he really did), blueberries 'neath my nails...GONE.
Gone to ineptitude and not-our-problem attitude of delta airlines. Gone in the face of a stale-smoke room in what was once - not so very long ago - a Howard Johnson's in Revere. Gone (dissipated) in the flux and flow of 6 am business travelers grasping at free Wall Street Journals and small cups of coffee.
So, by the time I'd made it to 60 Centre Street - Court House (City of New York) very big with scenic flight of steps, Maine was gone from my system. Tomorrow will tuck a balsam sachet behind my "juror's crossword puzzle" and sneak sniffs.
Am being considered for a civil trial of lady vs. dentist. Fine except that jury interviews (30 for 6) are being conducted by lawyer bent of dredging our dental horror stories. And since people do like to share , have heard tales of impacted molars and hideous family sagas of root canals gone wrong.
Girl to my left on the bench reading Orwell's Burmese Days. Damn. Every only-in-New York jury story comes rushing back.
Best part is this "cross section" thing - the people watching and the awkward lunch hour when we perch, lonely, on unfamiliar benches in unfamiliar parks.
Tomorrow: 9:15. In Maine they're distinguishing cormorants (seen above)from loons.
C
No comments:
Post a Comment