A Stationary Train

Nothing is as dismal as a stationary train that’s sitting motionless and purposeless and battered by the rain while far away from any

station, as its occupants refrain from making eye contact with others, though their plight is just the same: four hundred sad,

impatient people, who will soon have to explain to all their bosses that their locomotion’s sadly been detained, and they are

standing, sitting, sighing as the raindrops hit the pane, and as their workday and their paycheck and their hopes of moving wane,

because they doubt the rusty vehicle will ever start again.


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