An Ex-Parrot

This is an excerpt from my cancer memoir.

The train was so loud squeaking into South Station that I didn’t hear my phone ring. I had a short layover until the transfer to my homeward-bound line, so I jostled through the crowd, toward the CVS Pharmacy. Maybe I’d score some trail mix or yogurt-covered raisins. I needed something to tide me over until dinner.

It was a Friday, with a  chilly pre-Christmas weekend yawning before this mass of humanity in the train station. The place was packed. In...