Shirt, Forever 21. Dress, Diane von Furstenberg (consignment). Bag, and shoes, Clark’s. Sunglasses, Meow Meow.
Last time I trekked to the tracks, workers were moving engines around, but that’s the only time I’ve seen official activity in the yard. Usually, I’m just dodging other miscreants.
Before I leave my car, I text Beefy and let him know I’m at the trains and about to take photos. If I don’t text again within a time limit we’ve set, he knows I’m in trouble. If I don’t feel comfortable, I leave without taking pictures at all.
I should stay away from the train yard, but I can’t resist its call. I’m enamored with the shapes, colors, and shadows. I even like the way it smells: odors of rust and grease.
Sweet, sweet courage: