Northport, Alabama

You don’t always hear the train when it comes. Sometimes it’s just a rumble, the earth rolling beneath your feet; sometimes it’s a rush of wind, drawing everything within its wake beneath the crushing wheels. There’s no rhyme or reason to its schedule, no way of knowing what freight it will carry or how long it will stick around.

But I’ve lived close enough to these tracks far too long, walked their slippery golden rails far too often, to not know the route. Every day you get three choices: enjoy the ride, let it destroy you, or walk away.

Somehow, no matter which path I pick, I almost always end up on the wrong side of the tracks.

Music: Wicked Game by Chris Isaak (lyrics)