The hum of the Metro-North diesel engine was a completely different frequency than the rattling municipal bus back home.
It was mid-October, and the trees lining the tracks through Connecticut were ablaze in jagged bursts of crimson, burnt orange, and vivid gold. I rested my forehead against the cool glass of the window, watching the blur of small coastal towns roll past. On my lap lay an open legal pad covered in dense, hand-written proofs for my Advanced Microeconomics seminar, but the ink was blurring together.
My phone vibrated twice against my knee.
Tavares: Arriving at Union Station in 4 minutes. Track 3. I bought two terrible lukewarm bagels from the bodega near the bus terminal. Prepare your taste buds for disappointment.
A small, involuntary smile tugged at the corners of my l
