Santa Barbara Station at Dawn. Photo copyrighted by Mark Tulin.
The train comes and goes, passing each other in the depths of Center City. I’m spinning like I’m in a top-load dryer. I’m heading down a dark tunnel with flashing lights. I screech at every stop as a new group of strangers boards. So many times I waited on the train’s platform for the Frankford Eastbound to arrive, looking for its lights and the sound of its whistle. When it arrives, I find an empty seat where I can enjoy some privacy while being a voyeur. I am a crow train riding from Center City to the California Surfliner.
Crow Writer is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.
