Early Morning Train

I couldn't wait any longer. I was in a hurry. I looked down the tunnel. Stared down it is more what I did. It couldn’t come fast enough. I could feel the watch on my wrist tick every second away as though it was telling me, “I want you to notice every last moment you have to wait.” Didn’t this damn train know I wanted to be somewhere? Insensitive, merciless hunk of garbage. It had power over me. There was nothing I could do to hurry the damn thing along. Not that I didn’t try. I tapped my foot, hopped up and down, and paced back and forth—useless.

It was so early in the morning that not a soul was on the platform. I was awaiting the first train of the day, and I needed it to get here fast, but it was not willing to oblige. I don’t know how long I waited. Truth is, I don’t want to know.

Finally the dark-as-dark tunnel began to show some light. Almost like the sunrise I’m sure was happening at the same time. Brighter and brighter it grew. I could feel the excitement of my departure rise. Still, the light took its merry time getting through the tunnel. There I stood in the biggest hurry of my life and this damn thing was acting like it was a relaxing Sunday morning, as if we were all just going out for tea.

The smooth sound of speeding metal brushing over the electric track hit my ears and the tension grew more. “Come on train,” I murmured with intense anticipation. The wind of the train forcing itself through the tunnel swooped into the open station and whipped around the platform. It smacked me in the face and somehow made me feel more alive. It reminded me of the breeze off the lake when I camped with my family. It was like warm summer afternoons when all you begged for was cold water and a cool breeze.

My memories suddenly made me less hurried to my destination. In fact, I wanted to abandon my plans all together and go enjoy the weather one more time, but it was too late. The train barreled down on me with a slick swiftness. The last thing I saw was its piercing bright light.