It's on time.
It's always on time.
I wish, for once, I'd be able to utter the classic words of disappointment which are associated with public transportation, but I could tell from the hollow, organ-like, "whoot" of the train whistle, and a quick glance at my leather strapped wrist watch, that the black iron behemoth never fails to meet it's schedule exactly.
Standing on the very edge of the splintering wood platform, I craned my neck and squinted through the blinding sunlight towards a towering column of black smoke and dirt which grew in size as it came roaring forward towards one of it's few rest stops for the next several miles. It grew and grew in size an detail as it skimmed the barren and flat wilderness which stretched endlessly into unknown space. The low tone of that metal on metal of the wheels and those age old tracks seemed almost like the groan of an disgruntled old man, but eventually gave way to an earsplitting screech as the black towering monstrosity.
For the first ti