Homecoming

After a well-practiced California-to-New York Redeye I took my upset-stomach, half-asleep, tingling limbs, sore muscles and generally travel side-effected self and got in a cab. The early hour combined with dwindling sunlight hours made for a dark morning, with a light-blue break in the horizon. I drank water like it would clean off the motion-sickness lining my belly’s inside. The cab driver put on Billy Vaughn, someone I’d never allow myself any patience to listen to if driving alone in the car. I’d get two trumpet blows in and need a change of pace. However, in my backseat hub, I listened, and the multi-instrumentalist used his smooth orchestral tones to landscape the East Coast morning. The muted hustle of late school kids, street sweepers and morning dog walkers all floated by my window as Vaughn serenaded without a single lyric, just strings of melody I followed to my doorstep.

Advertisement