The Trains Will Be A Few Minutes Late

The plodding tyranny of life was stabbed, suddenly, pierced, by a shaft of life, of love – that – surprised those with slumped shoulders and upturned collars and gray faces. The ashes fell from their hats, as they shook and looked up at the light shining, reflecting off grime-streaked windows of the building towering up and over them all.

This was something they’d known before but had forgotten, they now believed. A thought – that – life hadn’t always been this way, squirmed and fought and surfaced.

The authorities also saw the lights and sent out dark-visored, heavy-booted guards to quell any possible unrest.


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