The happy place

The train this morning was one hour delayed. I stood in the chill autumn air, by the train station, watching the sun rise over the tracks, fingers frozen.

I thought then, that the sky looked as if someone just poured a bunch of dirty watercolours and pink over the paper, like even God couldn’t be bothered to render the sky properly on this fine day.

And I am now back on my way home, black windows and I am lulled in the train car like some sort of baby. Looking at these other people who could’ve been my friends maybe? In another life or this life,

Dozing a little bit, uncertain how long I have been sitting here, contemplating.

Was this a day well spent? Who knows!

Do you consider these forks in the roads, so much in life is just luck, be it good or bad. I would’ve been a train driver, maybe, had I not met my wife when I did.

Or I could’ve worked with forklifts at the postal terminal if I didn’t become a UNIX man instead.

And I have no clue what I would’ve felt then

And I wouldn’t have been the same person even

Maybe

It is all very transient, I think.

Mhmm