Sol's Random Stories

At 86, David often felt confused with things he saw and heard. He had to make new sense of new norms that seemed to change like the weather. Walking to the nearby park, it wasn't long before he saw a group of folks standing around a crying woman. Sobbing uncontrollably, her frame shaking with each shudder of grief that seemed to crush her, as the others tried in vain to console her. David didn't get too close to the drama, but a man standing beside the woman looked up and caught his stare. "It's her phone. The service is down. No one can tell her when it's returning.", the man explained, then looked off into the surging traffic. David nodded nervously and kept walking, a bit faster now to get away. How did things get like this, he wondered. When did it all change? When exactly did folks stop being free? At the park's entrance David saw a masked woman with a masked dog strolling across the wet morning grass. David chuckled to himself, thinking about how you...

Franklin didn't know it would be the last time, the very last conversation. A year had passed so quickly, and his mom's dementia had kept pace, Every visit, day by day, he saw her slipping away. But Franklin still visited often, although it became more difficult each trip. "The cab is here, mom, gotta go." Franklin walks to his mom's room with the lavender scent, with the doll collection and sachets in the drawer. His mom seems so small on her bed, sitting on the side, smoothing out single dollars from her purse. Franklin knew the routine, taking the handfull of bills as they hugged. He had learned to just accept anything she gave him, and then just stash it somewhere, because his mom won't remember, so any drama is avoided. He sees her struggling to clear her thoughts, and he feels the stabs of sorrow and anguish. They're so deep his whole body shudders in spasms of surrender, a visceral helplessness, he draws in one sharp, fearful breath. What good does ...

It was the persistent uncertainty of everything that caused Evelyn to so dislike this world, to feel its cold, unfriendly embrace. No place to trust, not much joy living alone so long now; mostly she looked for distractions.  Thirty-one already, forgotten in a cubicle in a big building in a big city, she blames no one, remains hopeful, although wary. But, too young to feel so disconnected. They met online, a chat room Evelyn dared visit on occasion. Some good conversation  started, and grew to something more over weeks of late night texting. Now, the first meeting in person, Evelyn finally agreed, with  mixed feelings of danger and anticipation. Both charged for a plan of first walking, then lunch, if things went that well. Now, waiting. Heart beating, and the constant second-guessing. Her life was just fine already, she thought. Why would Evelyn care to risk a disruption of her security? Now Ethan, her online friend, was almost fifteen minutes late. Maybe traffic? Shoul...

They are actually called funicular railways, this one a historic national landmark from 1901. Basically, Angel's Flight was a very short ride, with two cars named Olivet and Sinai, that ran in opposite directions on a shared cable. Originally, there were magnificent Victorian homes along one side of the hill, later sadly replaced with buildings.  What little I recall riding it with my mom- probably 1960, I was seven- included how scary steep it felt, the unwelcome lurching motion upward and downward, and how pointless it all seemed to me at the time.  Too much like how a roller coaster begins, the slow, ominous ascent, I wasn't a fan. We rode to the top, got off, waited a bit, then rode back down, my hand gripping my mom's the whole trip.  Then, we walked back across the street to Grand Central Market for groceries before the long bus ride back home. I recall this ride happened only a couple of times. There may have been more to see at the top, but we never explored anywh...