Like a complete unknown.

The kid sat a few rows away in my car with his guitar and strummed it lightly, staring out the train as the Hudson flew by, one knee upright and the other leg folded on the seat, propping him up as his fingers picked at those strings and the slow, thin twang of some newer, younger, Bob-Dylan-like song politely pressed against the window, eighth notes and a strum of chords huffing like careless afterthoughts as he nodded his head occasionally and continued to look out at the green and the blue and the slightest of gray waves that for once, I noticed, seemed to lap in slow-motion.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s