Brian Cray

I took the bus from Manchester to Rutland for $2.00 so I could finally ride the train to Bennington.  I've ridden every other direction out of the VRS yard except this line south and wanted to go through the Green Mountains.  I no longer have work so what else was I gonna do? Public transit for some reason always attracts the people that want to talk to strangers.  I'm not

I spent the hours before dusk curled up in the dirt beneath a bush, with empty bottles and cans of beer scattered around me, left by past train hoppers.  Plastic bags of trash dangled from the limbs of holly trees lined up along the tracks while I lay there patiently waiting on a westbound train to NOLA.  The series of bushes camouflaged me from the cameras by the railroad tracks, allowing me to lay there

Scotty was a dreamer, a raconteur of tales at sea, a bullshitter.  He stood about the same height as myself, maybe slightly taller, with a stubbly, red beard, a face tattoo of a diamond pointing inward towards his left eye, and a hummingbird decorating his neck.  An assortment of other various tattoos colored his forearms like The Illustrated Man.  I studied his hands and could tell he had served time in prison from the spiderweb