Far off in the distance we gaze at the fluorescent lights glowing, electric candles vibrant and magnificent as we sit on our roof, watching the players tackle each other on the mega screen. The announcer’s voice booms and the sky lights up even more with the pop and scattered explosion of our team’s colors in fireworks; they’ve scored another touch down so we toast to their success.
When the game is won the fluorescent lights remain luminiscient in the darkness and accompanied by the brilliance of the stars; sometimes we wish we had tickets to that game now hours ago, but our view from the roof of our house is priceless — it also doesn’t cost $20.00 a beer, not even $20.00 a case.
We’re balancing on the train tracks, walking them carefully with our arms held out like acrobats. The tracks start to rattle, at first minutely, but gradually the rattle increases as we hear the train nearing.
Remaining as long as we can, we walk and balance, challenging ourselves and testing the fates. When the train whistles loudly, we step off. The tracks are clanking and clambering, as if the bolts holding them down might come free.
The beast approaches and with it comes the wind from the train’s speed and the smoke from the coal fed engine. We stand as close as we can, without it hitting us.
It’s an electric and deadly thrill when the train rushes past and we’re not even grazed. We don’t fall back, we ride the wave between life and death as it passes.