The Highline from below
At Beacon he is startled awake. The sun reflected off the water stings his eyes. The conductor calls the station. As the doors are about to close he jumps to his feet. He calls to a man to hold the door. The conductor grumbles. He races through the door as it strains to close. On the platform, he realizes he has left his pack on the train. He imagines his belongings travelling north. He wonders if they have the means to pay the fare. He walks to the road and then to the museum where he takes a seat in a room surrounded by Andy Warhol.

The repeated shadows remind him now of photos of the the hooded figure at Abu Ghraib, now of a portrait of a cat with a sardine. He watches the people in the gallery. A woman sits beside him, flips through a brochure, puts it away, gets up. He sees someone he knows and waves, but the man is too engrossed in the art and doesn't see him. He thinks he sees her and his heart leaps. He feels the weight of the space around him.