Just as I was about to lose my mind this morning on the train, thanks to prolonged exposure to the open-mouthed breather smacking his gum directly into my right ear, I happened to look to my left. Out of the row of indiscriminate humanity appeared a woman’s left hand, wearing two rings and gripping a copy of Travel + Leisure. The cover featured your standard fantasy beach, empty and uncluttered beneath the shelter of a couple of palm trees. Was that where she was hoping to go, or wishing she were at that moment– or was she checking out some other optional getaway, or simply killing time by reviewing possibilities in general? Once she gets to her preferred destination, will she lie there with other reading material– or maybe continue the search for additional elsewheres, with her Travel + Leisure in tow?
The reader on the train home was apparently more comfortable with the damp manifestations of the season in this part of the world; his trench coat and odd porkpie-beret combo provided apt attire to accompany the Wall Street Journal that held his attention as he stood with his back against the wall at one end of the carriage.