Today a train bears his name: NED, no more, no less.
NED vibrates with each passing rail, punctuated by the rattle-bang of bumping cars and the plaintive wail of memories Ned-the-Person no longer hears.
A longing wail that touches me deep inside—like ol’ time bluegrass still does.
Does something happen to your insides when the late night whistle of a train interrupts your dream state? When the watched landscape that you know to be real transforms into something else? Becoming what has been, will be, and is when you awake?