Train of Thought

The rocking rattle of the car shakes the plush, stuffy seats – the squat paper cups on plastic trays – the men and women of the world, silent as they glide forth.

Windows, fogged with morning mist or evening chill or some of both. One can never quite tell.

A faint trill of pop music screaming through earbuds of a young man asleep, feet in the aisle and hat drawn low. His girlfriend licks her finger before turning the page

The countryside shudders as the train shuttles past. The platform groans under the great steel bulk as it grinds into the station. A brief exchange.

All aboard. The train goes ever onward.


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