Yesterday I was at the Asian Art Museum and the Main Library in San Francisco's Civic Center. The library is right next to Market Street so I decided to take a bus home.
I see one of the historic trollies clink-clanging down Market Street, this one bright orange -- a restored beauty from Milan -- the F line. I hop on. I decide to ride to the end of the line. The polished dark wood puts me in another time and placed. The F line starts in North Beach and ends at Castro Street.
I think about the lives of those who have stepped up for a ride. Going home or in seach of something?
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