the high-speed train between Barcelona and Paris
After her marriage and familial responsibilities ended and she stepped into her own life, late 50's maybe 60, Florence kept saying "I was asleep all my life. I was asleep." The fury and regret that fueled those words were palpable.
Who the hell wanted to grow old like that? I did everything I could to stay awake to what was actually happening. Coffee helped.
The thing is when you are really and truly awake, the horrible stuff becomes something wonderful and the wonderful stuff flies by. I wasn't waiting for things to begin. I wasn't dreaming of something that would never happen. I wasn't holding my breath.
From the beginning, it felt like the Mariner had always been here. From the beginning it felt like we just met.
Every once in a while I'd glanced back just before the horrible and the wonderful became a memory but unless I was reminded or reread my diary I was sure to forget. Like being on the high speed train, attempting a picture of things so beautiful became almost impossible because they were gone before I could snap a photo.
There was nothing left to do except sit back, enjoy the beauty and stay awake.
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