Run Over On a Train 在火车上的故事
My first trip to ada ectacular, and I’ll never fet it. It was a trip up to Nunavut to study several retly discovered though deeply endangered species of aquatic life in a couple of isolated lakes in the region. I think it was the fall of 2003 or 2004…something like that.
Anyway, after we arrived ba Churchill, Manitoba at the end of our research - me and my team: a group of stists from bia, UVA, and a few from the Uy of Toronto ― we took a train down to Winnipeg where we’d all part ways for home or, in my case, Seattle where I’d decided to visit an ex-boyfriend-turned-friend of mine who’d moved there from our hometown in Tennessee five years ago. Him and I had always talked about taking a road-trip together, and right there was the whole Pacific coast just waiting to be explored. Not to mention, it would be at least three months before we’d get any of our research published in any stific journal. He was between real jobs at the moment and probably pretty depressed, anyway. And he was always calling me up and telling me about how he was made for so much more than being a waiter, more thaing yelled by some crazy Korean guy all day; how he was ready to quit at a moment’s notice. Well, even if I got there and all that was bullshit and he didn’t want to go anywhere with me, I still would have plenty of money left from bia’s research grant to fly back to New York with my tail between my legs.
I was thinking all of this over so much, kind of anxiously sidering the way my life was going to feel as if floating in zero gravity for the few months, when I was suddenly forced bato the present by the realization that I had been blankly staring right at a big red-headed guy in the seat to my right. I don’t even know how my head had gotten turhat way, but I felt ridiculous as soon as I realized it was, and I quickly looked away and back down at the digital camera, pen, and journal in my lap. I was making some personal notes about