February 23rd, 2007, 12:30 am

Cobwebs & Candycorn

WASHINGTON, DC, February 23, 2007

“How do you enjoy a moment when you know it’s just a memory?”

The question hung for a moment, between Monumento do Cristo-Rei and the copycat bridge, over milk coffees grown chilly; useless too-thin napkins, and a setting sun. Lisboa hobbled down, in creaky, cobbly hill to meet the river, and we were on the precipice.

“How do you enjoy a moment without living in the past?”

The questions are paraphrased, but perception was clear; three friends, on their own planes of existence, each soaking up the first love blush and too ripe citrus of atmosphere; one past, one present, one future.

The moment became a memory; I awoke in L’Enfant Plaza metro stop in Washington, DC. Third rail; magnetic pull - as if my body would leap there against my will, petulantly flung.

Ghost train came noisy, angry, clanging: empty and dark, save the maintenance men and bright light laptops. With it came the tug of trapped air; cool and rushing, as ghost train sped off on its own path.

I stare straight ahead, unfocused, and allow the trains to become just so much glo-worm, coffee-stained windows, and unwitting actors.

But then the moment became a memory; I boarded the next train, and went home, to a dark creaky house where, seven years ago, a man died on the sidewalk from a gunshot wound to the neck.

The ice that covered the concrete has melted, and there is no trace of him.