The 124 is the post-light rail remnants of the old 174, one of metros worst routes. I watch the boarded up brick buildings go by in the rain, lit by dismal streetlight. South Seattle.

The new light rail station brings me to the new Rapid Ride A line. We all board, I assume it is headed South. The light rail starts runing about now.

Telling R’s family about how I got here from Maine is rote. I don’t mention being dragged along or M’s life schedule, slipping out every year. Maine isn’t the secret past, it is still a part of me, but the circumstances remind me how much has changed; gained and lost.

I told R that was new favorite first date, replacing that with Z. I tipped my hat to the personal issues in that being the bar but let dead horses lay.