Grenada

I got stuck in Littleton after missing my train to catch my flight in Boston. And since there were no cabs or cab companies within 40 kilometers, my only option was to either pay the $200 fee that American Airlines charges if you change your flight, and then I’d have to find a cheap hotel–or to pay a mere $125 for a limo to the airport. Or to simply not go anywhere at all.

Some people stay where they are because they can’t go anywhere else. By choice. I hope I have not become one of those people.

The limo driver was very large, tattoos everywhere, and a thick Boston accent. And very chatty. She started talking about ISIS and how they would not stop killing until they killed all of their own people, and then all of us (Americans). But if we continue to bomb them, they will kill more of us, and and then we will kill more of them, and then who will be left?

She said that the only way people will come together and stop murdering each other is if we are invaded by aliens from another planet. Then we’d all have a common foe to fight against.

But, she added, none of this would be happening if Ronald Reagan were still in charge. When the Cubans started to take over that island (Grenada?),
he said “I’ll have none of that.”  And that was that.

About The Lost Pedestrian

In my wanderings throughout the moments/days/years, I try in earnest to find the mystical within the mundane and the mundane within the mystical, oftentimes confusing one from the other. I have wandered and roamed through many a city, many a town, in a state of wonder and bewilderment, without necessarily going anywhere. I am easily lost, but eventually found. (I am guessing you have just found me). My sincere hope is that you will find Something in this warehouse of thought, memory and false memory, words, numbers, tangents, murmurs, echoes (lots and lots of echoes), voices, dreams, and other paraphernalia.
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