I look up bike routes to Lombard, Illinois. It’s 23 miles. Doable. But the wind is whipping around pretty good and I have to carry a framed poster so I opt for Metra.

Commuter rail trips around Chicago always remind me of when I lived in Beverly a decade ago. It’s not necessarily a thing I want or need to revisit in my mind. It wasn’t all bad but represents the end of my last failed relationship. Not the happiest thought for a trip to visit friends.

It’s early evening Saturday, so the train is packed with suburbanites returning home after a day in the city. A lot of beer-drinking and caterwauling children. I feel awkward taking up so many seats with my bike. I’m right next to the bathroom. When a rider leaves without sliding the door closed the stench is palpable.

It’s a ten minute ride to Mallory and Bulent’s new house. The road is not one often used by bicyclists judging by the way drivers buzz by me. The wind pushes at me, slowing the pace considerably.

The little house is just off the main road. There’s a pumpkin on the porch and a few other holiday decorations but otherwise no signs of life. The doorbell is one of those ones with a camera in it. A minute after I ring it, Mallory appears at the door.

Bulent drives up a minute later. He says he saw me riding down the road as he was picking up pizza. I say I rarely recognize drivers or acknowledge when they try to get my attention. I mostly concentrate on not getting doored or run into.

The wind blows down the outdoor screen several times until we tie it down with rope to a tree and a light fixture. We’re about to take the show inside but then it dies down enough for us to watch. The movie stars an impossibly buff James McAvoy terrorizing an unhappy couple and their irritating child. It’s ridiculous. But I’m here for the company rather than art criticism. As something to do with friends, it’s just fine.

Visiting a house makes me think of the one time I lived in one. The same one I think of every Metra trip. It feels like exile. I couldn’t make a world with someone else enough not to notice how cut off I was from the city.

Out here in the boonies it’s worse. But this is what most people want. A place of their own away from others. They build a whole universe within the walls of their domiciles.

I suppose I do that as well. But it’s different than cohabitation and it’s not on the Metra.

I made a couple fonts.

Mallory and I discussed Bell, Book and Candle.

Made an Apple Music playlist of a song from each year I’ve been alive.