the return

i went to the train in marseille at 5, walked on and found my place. the train pulled out on time and headed to take me to the point where i would transfer for the final leg back to angers. the ticket man came by and asked for mine. "its in my bag" i told him and stood up to go look through my things. by the time i finished rummaging for the ticket i knew wasnt there, the man had finished checking the coach and proceeded past me, answering his phone.


and so, i made it to marn la valle with not much trouble.

i waited thirty minutes for my next train, then got on. we pulled out as i found a spot and ticket men walked up and down the aisle. nervous, i pretended to be asleep. the man poked me. "monsieur," and he asked for the ticket.

again my act, went to my things, "oh my, its not here. wheres my ticket?" he told me to buy a new one, but i didnt have the cash for it. he asked if i had a credit card. i lied. so he billed my house.

he was helpful and told me that, in fact, that train was not my last, but i had another transfer and, when it came time, he pointed me in the right direction.

on this train no one checked tickets and the ride was smooth. on the other hand, the train ahead of us hit a pig.

we pulled to a stop at a small, closed train platform and mosied around to waste time. crisp autumn air does something to make stars shine brighter, and this time was no different. i questioned if that was in fact the milky way. surely not. we werent that isolated. but to have to guess yes or no is testament to the number of stars. the sky was brilliant. the train's heater kept a steady hum, the brakes let an occasional sigh, people gathered for small chit chat and after thirty minutes we kept on.

only 15 minutes later did i arrive to angers, cold and clear, stars brilliant, where i returned to my own computer, first time in a month, and had to remind myself how an american keyboard is laid out.

qwertyuiop
not azertyuiop
and asdfghjkl;
not qsdfghjklm