mamadeb

We went to visit my brother today. I like traveling by train - it's a bit longer than if we'd rented a car, and not much savings, but I get to read, not drive. And there are people.

There was the chatty conductor on the trip out, who had a kind word or a joke or a wish for a good trip to everyone as he passed, and who explained why people had to walk forward to leave at certain stations.

There was the dark young woman in the tight white tank top who perhaps should have worn something else, or at least something underneath.

There was the baby girl and her father - she would not be still so he had to walk with her, holding her hands or top of her dress, and she'd stop and smile at everyone, and when he picked her up, she'd wave and everyone would wave back, and she clapped her hands and everyone clapped back and then she let daddy sit down and play with her that way for a few minutes, to his relief.

We were tired on the trip back, having had lunch and chatted with my brother, and then gone shopping for a digital camera (didn't get) and some books (did get) and then we went off to an interesting kosher restaurant for dinner. Interesting because it was two restaurants in one building - dairy and meat, with the two kept strictly separated with separate entrances and no way to walk from one to the other. We had meat.

And I finished my books on psycho/sociopaths (thank you,

ginamariewade and I learned a few things about myself, and a lot about fictional characters. I'll be writing about those, I think.

But we were tired, so all I really noticed on the trip back was the young woman across the aisle in the pink pedal pushers who was reading Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator. And then we took the subway home, immersed in our books, and watch QAF and we are home.

(Never let me read MFK Fisher. I'll write like her for days.)

ETA: My brother, I should mention, lives in New Jersey.