A chill settles over Jamaica Plains as the F Train winds
its way to The Village.
“New Haven. Miss?” sang the conductor.
Persephone sits quietly with an old bag between her knees.
Surely, Hades will ignore the weather and see her; but she has
no guarantees.
Her stomach grumbles as she examines the other passengers.
They look like Fellini characters with Hitchcock touches.
To her left is the slave boy from The Satyricon, but, he also looks like
Grace Kelly: and she’s sure she’s seen that whore in La Dolce Vita
and The Birds.
The E screams to a stop.
“Penn Station. Miss?” sang the conductor.
Persephone quickly rises and says her good-byes.
(c) Rob Goldstein 2017 All Rights Reserved
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