(continues from The Trouble with White)

I stepped aside, and the train plastered my transparent body to the tunnel. Despite my resolve to stay on this side of the Hudson, the wind generated by the train’s passage tried to suck me along after it.

I scrabbled for a hold until my fingers slid along a pipe. Gripping it, I clung on for dear afterlife right at the point where land and water meet outside the tunnel. My consciousness stretched and thinned at the end of my spiritual tether. Just before I broke apart in screaming agony, the train finally left me behind. Physics let go its death grip, and I dropped onto the tracks. Clawing my way back up the tunnel, I belly crawled until I had some slack in my tether and I stopped feeling its presence.

I heard nature calling, singing, warning
me and its voice echoed where I did cling.
I’m dangling, zinging from electric stings. 
All because Nature’s calling and I cringe. 

My consciousness stretched and thinned at the end of my spiritual tether. Just before I broke apart in screaming agony, the train finally left me behind. Physics let go its death grip, and I dropped onto the tracks. Clawing my way back up the tunnel, I belly crawled until I had some slack in my tether and I stopped feeling its presence.

Find the earlier parts of this series here.

For OctPoWRiMo, 31 poems in 31 days–all part of one story. Watch me do it.

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