Toward Vandalia

A Journal of Felt Experience


Nostalgic For A Place I Have Never Been

The signal changes but I’m not on board. The train moves ever forward but I remain standing. At the end of the line friends will meet at a cafe and enjoy the breeze that always rolls through the suburb at four o’clock but the air here is still. They will reminisce about other afternoons spent in the breeze but I cannot participate.

I am nostalgic for a place I have never been.