I remember the moment when I first realized that the Twilight Train was coming for me. I was 41 years old and in the middle of a general domestic unhappiness, which probably flavored my reaction on that day. Looking back, I would love to be in the shape I was in then—but on that particular day and year, things were different. It sounds so silly now but my whole world view changed when I noticed on my thigh a tangle of spider veins the size of a quarter. I remember feeling instant melancholy that fell as softly as airborne ashes.
Since then I have adjusted my mind somewhat to the effects of gravity and the swift passing of daylight. but that day I felt the first doom of participating in a journey against my will. The little web of vessels became a metaphor for middle age and the places it would take me, with or without my permission.
This was the day I first heard in the near distance my own personal “Whooo-Whooo!” This was the day I recognized that somehow, without my knowledge or effort, there was already in my hand a ticket for the Twilight Train.