I got off the train halfway home and stepped into the sunshine of Spring’s warmth and a scent of a dissipated ocean fog, just lifted.
I was in no hurry, I had some time yet until my next appointment. On the platform towards the front, an elderly man of medium height stands in Native North American garb staring in closely at the locomotive engine, wheels and wires above. His clothing appears cotton, perhaps also made from agave or deerskin, I cannot tell other than it is authentic. I walk towards him in mindless curiosity and just then to my right, another is passing with a longer gait and widening arms of embrace. He is taller, far younger wearing a dark suit, rattlesnake boots and a raven black ponytail that rests on his broad youthful shoulders.
They embrace for a long moment.
‘Is good to see you Dakota, you…
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