On a train in the second person

The second person frees us. The intimate but distancing “you.”

You sit on a train speeding back to Stockholm, buzzing on two beers and frustrated over your mobile broadband’s refusal to connect.

You download a video on yoga, and clicking through it you come upon a man in the full lotus hopping around on his back. You smile over the idea of achieving flexibility, mental calm and humility through advanced silliness.

You think of your bed, waiting for you, and the sheets and clothes that need washing, and the hot black coffee you will make for yourself in the morning.

You think of life, of the clap of shoe heels on train aisle linoleum.

You get giddy thinking about Obama, feeling more hopeful about the U.S. than you have in your whole life.

 You add “Obama” to the dictionary of your cell phone when texting a friend.

You tilt your head back and hear train wheels rolling, and you want more beer and Swedish snus.

You think of the train as a long tube creating the illusion of “inside” when all along you are outside.

You feel your deadlines swirling about you, curving around your head and shoulders, held off by the heat of the beer and day-end tiredness.

You feel yourself using too many words.

You blink. You exhale.

You plan your next urination as one does in public: a calculation of need, distances and future availability of toilets.

Tags: advanced silliness, deadlines, hot black coffee, humor, Obama, personal, random, Stockholm, the second person, train, train travel, urination, yoga