Maverick to State

April 27, 2026

I move by land now, not by sea.

My footsteps echo as I stride down the steps of Maverick Station. The unfamiliar smell of the underground, the sound of an approaching train. The doors slide open and I find an empty seat.

I look down at my longboard resting between my legs. I’ve grown to trust its wheel the way a sailor trusts the hum and rhythm of a ship he has spent years sailing.

On the Blue Line, every person seems buried in their phone, headphones or earbuds in. Buffers. Shields from the small, unwanted interactions of being close to strangers.

I sit with my earbuds in too, listening to Noah Kahan. The music describes it perfectly. What it feels like to come from a small coastal town and throw yourself into a new city.

Two stops.

I step off.