---

Liquid day

Fog, breath

Cornucopia of popping white lights

Amplified chatter, chaos, screaming children

The central corridor of the train station has a blue hue

Blue hearts straining, loving, pounding

Memories of Mafia at the edge of my mind

I look down at the ticket

Amsterdam

The windmills and flowers woosh by

As the train gently hums along the tracks

Scenes of other lives abound as we draw closer to the city

Then another station

Another set of keys for the eyes

Someone is playing a piano

Or is it just another auditory hallucination

I search for a clock on the wall

12:04 pm

The sounds and movement overtake me

I crawl into a corner and hide

Someone offers me a croissant

My shaky hand reaches

Soft, fresh, buttery

I take out my journal

Sketch the scene around me

People become sticks

Take deep breaths

Calmer now

I’m in Amsterdam

I walk outside and absorb the air and all of its pieces

I come upon a koffiezaak and settle in for a cup

Outside at a small table

Cordoned off by an ornament of fastening

Black and gold

Cannabis in the air

Legs moving, bodies moving

The buildings are tall and thin

Searchlight windows abound

Cell phone rings

“Where did you go?”

---