Silver Saddle

There's a man named Ted who's been living in room #4 for 14 years.

He works at the desk, does odd jobs around the place, and lives his life here at the Silver Saddle Motel, watching the snow banks turn to puddles in the spring, and the ground get parched and dusty after that, when the tourists fill up all the other rooms and go away with purchased art. Since I left New York in August I've been a bit like Ted, living out of rented rooms.

When you are ending one part of your life and beginning another it is a bit like changing lanes on a busy highway with a broken blinker, and you have to be careful every time you tug the wheel, because there are many moving vehicles that can hit you. It is dangerous to daydream, because changing lanes at such a speed takes all your concentration, and it is hard to slow down, because the traffic is thick and people will honk and then you might crash, so you have to know when to make your move and how to get your timing right.

"Excuse me, do you have the time?" said a man on the shuttle bus to the woman sitting next to him. She poked her Blackberry and said, "9:49. Ooooh, actually 9:51. Weird. It doesn't normally change like that." Apparently her Blackberry was busy doing something else and took a moment to catch up with time, which seems to be happening more and more, and not just to Blackberries.