Never take a seat by the bathroom, especially on a commuter rail line. This is the lesson I have yet to learn. The isle is almost as busy as the train station, with people coming and going in a stream equal in proportion to the liquid waste trailing - I imagine something like the diameter of a fire hose - from the underside of the carriage.

Afternoon sun makes me sleepy, and I dream that over blintzes at a twenty-four hour Hungarian diner there will be a great secret revealed, but it will then be lost as events conspire to confuse messages already difficult enough to interpret.