At 4:00 a.m. in Chicago, shaking shattered a deep slumber. My disoriented brain scoured for an explanation. A dream? A train screeching down the tracks? I became flush with rage, convinced that I had flushed my life savings down the toilet of a rickety structure that couldn’t even withstand a train’s slow journey. Hours later, steaming more than my coffee, I made my way to the train stop. I was startled when the woman next to me asked, ‘How about that earthquake?’
! Remark: “Mind Fragment” posts are fictitious prose, and none of them is about me.