Rusty . . .

Events such as that make thoughts run through my head before I can control them, before I can count them. They're just there.

The young man sitting a row behind, the mother frustrated, the father seemingly lost in his own concerns.

I really don't know anything, from one aisle over and one row down.

But I know it made me feel. I don't know exactly how it made me feel. I think the English language fails us, fails me, sometimes. But it made me feel. And it lingers with me just a little bit even now.