“I could watch for hours,” he said. “Every time a train ran by I’d watch the grass get pushed around.” He paused and moved his finger across the table slowly and down the engraved leg. “We had picnics out there between the tracks– there was this spot,” here he licked his finger and let it wander through the air, “where you could see the track and the grass and behind it the sugar factory and its boarded up windows.” He took a deep breath. “There were so many windows. Seemed like the building had just given up cause not one of those windows was whole!”
