Switch

The night trains here are almost always late. I sit in one of the new cars, because I know the lights will be too bright and the air conditioner will be too loud and too cold and that all these things will likely keep me from sleeping through my stop.

Someone said it hit a hundred in the city today. At 10:30 tonight (half an hour after the train was supposed to have left) it was still soporifically warm. All I can imagine consuming for the foreseeable future is lemonade and beer, but it's too hot to seriously consider going anywhere to get either.

My head lolls, but not from sleepiness. Ever since the power went out at work this afternoon and we went walking down by the water, I've felt a little faint. It's been alleviated only by air conditioning and the condensation on the outsides of tall glasses.

We sat this afternoon under some pine trees, listening to the cones crack open in the heat. At first there were theories—all that noise overhead, and all that stillness, like ghosts of fighting squirrels.

It felt crazy, or, better, like looking at nebulae: look straight at a cluster of noise and see nothing—it falls silent, then the sound picks up again just beyond where you can see.

It was a "planned outage," they told us afterwards.

The conductor just came on with the usual feet-off-the-seats litany, the rote apology for the delay, but with a surprise: not construction, or an "accident"—they threw a rail.

It's been repaired.

There'll be some speed restrictions.

I'll let you know when they're coming up.