It was the one that kept me safe. I am the one who wanted to save it. A single frozen train ride with silence and laughter of mine. A single ride that wasn’t allowed but had been allowed. A single ride which excused the danger within it. From the caboose one could watch all, but they just judge and lose their lips.

Its pressure is heavy. It forces the feelings from my gut. It speeds up and then slows down and lays out the baggage, for all peer at. This is how it thrives.

Thrive, thrive, thrive to shovel out the emotion. It sounds.

When I am too touched and too frozen to go on thriving, when I am an unaware traveler against so many paths, then it is I who stares out the window, left between me and the world. When there is nothing left to look at through the glass. A single ride which never stopped chugging despite its heavy baggage. A single ride which held and did not forget to hold. A single ride whose only fate was to trudge forward and ahead.