they came in droves, the feet shuffling, dank smoke searing their eyes. the morning sun scatters and refracts through the thinly formed window panes; the world blurs by, and everyone has their heads lowered.
hands clutching new materials clutching a skeleton frame clutching a train car chassis clutching to the rails just barely. clacking and screeching, dreams were the only thing more noisy and boisterous in a time now long past.
woven seats of reed and cushion, wooden beams and details from some state forest lining each unit, a sense of purpose and destination. we all moved forward, so was stalled en masse, together in momentary frustrations.
and now all is memory and echoes of clattering and rough textures. the visions of a workday now mesh into the not-as-of-yet realized sleek future vision. we stumble and grumble, scuttle and grimace.
the tunnels resound with our presence, and everyone remembers everything and nothing at all.
celebrate your smaller victories as well, not just the loudest ones.