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Illustration by Eleni Kalorkoti

It’s about a half-hour train ride to Yonkers, much of it along the river. You come out of the city, off the island, and countryside appears—green strips of landscape, woody bluffs, brown water, telephone lines. You can see New Jersey. Stacked up behind you, northern Manhattan fades away. Liesel liked taking the train. If she were there she would have stared out the window, lost among the landmarks. But Bill felt confined. He got bored. In Texas, you get used to driving everywhere. You live in the car. He tried to play a game of solitaire on the empty seat next to him, but the train shook too much. He tried to read a book but felt distracted by various things, including the view. By other things, too. The sound of the wheels on the tracks, metal on metal. It’s true, though (he was talking to Liesel in his head), you get these young-man feelings on a train, you could go anywhere. Or see your sister.

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Javier Zamora was born in El Salvador and migrated to the US when he was nine.

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