magicbeans. nothing if not awkward.

My mom: 'So what's your plan?'

'Well,' looking at the little, folded blue and white schedule, 'there's a train at 223.'

'Sounds good.'

Another piece of pumpkin pie later and I'm on the train headed back into NYC. This has been the longest that I've been away from the city since I moved here.

Change trains in Southeast. They used to call it Brewster North. A girl with a cat sits in a row ahead of me but facing back in my direction. I can see her eyes and red on brown hair poking above the seat between us. She has a red jacket and a red collar poking up from beneath it. Her cat is black and white. She has a whole bunch of earrings in her right ear. But mostly she's lost in her book and I'm lost in mine.

The sunset through the Bronx is beautiful.

And then underground. Grand Central. The 5. The L.

At home in Brooklyn I open a beer and climb all the stairs up to the roof to see if there's anything left of the sunset. Not much. Some greys and blues. A hint of pink stretching behind the projects to the Southwest.

I call Ellen. 'Are you back in New York?' she asks.

'Yeah. Just got back.'

'We're waiting in line at a gas station in Connecticut. We got an earlyish start, but we stopped for lunch for about an hour. And then there was an hour where we only drive 17 miles. I'll give you a call when I get home.'

I call my dad. My phone's battery dies mid-call, so I come back down off the roof, plug it in, and call him back. We talk for a while.

Around 9 Ellen calls me back. We talk for a bit. Make tentative plans for next weekend. Hang up.

The apartment's empty. I feel empty. And I wonder if living by myself is such a good idea.