Like a tape rewinding, the train line takes me to the city. I haven't been there for a while, hiding in the small, littoral places where fate crashes against the shingle of confidence; and where the crows dogfight over the waters. Maybe the line will save me where the sea could not. After all, it has a beginning and an end, and all rails must stop somewhere. Where the coast lays things open, the concrete and neon of the metropolis surely will make it possible for me to hide, to blend in, to leave fate and its unsuspected storm surges behind.