I’m eastbound on the Pennsylvanian. Me and my wireless Internet connection (who says Verizon phones can’t be tethered?) are parked up front in Business Class. An angry, Macbook-toting, hoodie-wearing emo is angrily kicking the seat of an old man in front of him. My complimentary coffee is strong. And free. The fields of Lancaster county flash past the window as 700 tons of Amtrak-stamped steel hurtle through at 60 mph.
Somewhere in the distance, a cow moos.
What used to be a monthly trip for me has, over the years, dropped to an every-other month trip, then almost entirely out of sight. Obligations of my previous position at work (which I am not complaining about, I voluntarily chose to work all those crazy shifts) made travel plans almost impossible. But now, with my M-F 8-4 job firmly entrenched, I decided to dip into my massive pile of annual leave and disappear for a while.