We fit our conversations between.
We fit our conversation between the intermittent screeching of the train, between the gaps in cell phone coverage, through text messages or touches in the blinking tunnel dark. We make this trip twice a week at least, and like it is with all travel, some sort of strange distance math, the more we make the trip the shorter it seems, perhaps because as we familiarize ourselves with the world around us we begin to overlook it. Looking at something and overlooking it become one and the same endeavor, just like covering something and uncovering it. Pinpointing is the same as excluding, defining the same as denying. We find the borders to decide what stays within them.