Transit & Chalk Lines

I take a streetcar to the subway, the subway to the train station, walk through the bus terminal and go to work. I work in a hotel. Its in keeping with my methods that it takes so much travel for me to get to a place with a main purpose of providing rest. I notice a transient theme in my life right now. Eyes wide open, move forward and eventually arrive at your destination.

It’s amazing how easily we can get from one place to another. People transported in hours across seas, vast fields, and over mountains. If you look back at all the places you’ve been, and how you ended up there, and who was somehow sitting next to you, it is pretty unbelievable.

Greg brought me to Trafalgar Square one day. He said we needed to get tickets. This went without question. We were always getting tickets. Tickets for plays, tickets for transit, tickets for cheap and delicious sandwiches from the dirty little deli at the tube station. And despite all this commerce, there was little extravagance. I barely had two cents to rub together.

Pardon me: two pence.

It was a busy Saturday, and the train into London from Essex had been particularly packed. We fought through the bustling groups of people, passed the fountain and I glanced at the ground beneath me. I stopped dead in my tracks.

‘I’m here’.

Written in chalk on the pavement by the fountain, in his very distinct handwriting. And very distinct medium. Jason was here. I looked at Greg and he started to laugh.

“Where is he?”, I asked.

A note left for me in a city of 9 million people by my best friend who should have been across an ocean. He had surprised me with a visit before embarking on a life changing adventure that brought him to Thailand and India, and then back to me in Cow Head, a town of 300 that may as well be on a different planet than the fountain at Trafalgar Square.

Jason wrote me another note. Today. When I reminded him this morning about that message in chalk, on the stones of Trafalgar Square, and how it still makes me smile when I think about it today, he wrote me a little note.

‘Our lives are incredible, you know.’

Home is where the Heart is



About roxymoss

This blog is a spot to collect some writing and snaps and drawings! I love classic Days of our Lives, riding my bicycle and 'liking' things on Facebook when I have had too much to drink. xo roxy moss
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1 Response to Transit & Chalk Lines

  1. RoxyRoller says:

    You bet it is! And Jason will always be Jason..a friend that, I have no doubt , will always share very special moments in time with you. I love you Dana! I am so happy that Jason is in your heart. Love you Jason too!

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