Trains depart every day, every hour, and every minute. People pack in shoulder-to-shoulder; sometimes they find a comfy seat on an empty car. Where is everyone going off to? Do they have family to see? Are they looking for new places? Perhaps they’re meeting with an old friend.
You wondered about every individual person on the cobblestone station platform as you boarded your own, and you think about the vacation ahead of you as the train emerges from the tunnel, the steam making its way past the windows as the ocean comes into sight, and all at once you see the bright sun shimmering off the ocean waves on the beach of a small wood-framed port town.