The train approaches the boarders pick up their groceries, tired after a day of work. the light, dim at first, growing brighter by the second, a shrill whistle blasts, interrupting my daydream as I sit, complacently sit at the bench made of metal- the whole world a piece of steel marred only by pieces of plastic, I wonder if the people are metal as well, their hearts, cold and hard, faces eternally set to indifference to protect themselves from pain. but the train, it rolls on, zipping along in this modern world heading to whereabouts unknown, calmly, smoothly, no emotions, just cool efficiently rolling down the track. The train- it pulls into view a sleek grey piece of machinery, just like everyone else. a faceless conductor, urgent and impatient blows the horn-two sharp blast that wake me from my dream, watching the business men, with their ties and cards the women with dresses and children odd that there is no sound but the low idle of the train. I suddenly don’t want to get on I am afraid of it, that thing, I turn to run, people all around, glassy-eyed, ignoring, stampeding, eager to be home to there TV’s. Running, all I see is lights, flashing by as I break for freedom impeded by the crowd, a mass of bodies pushing single-mindedly pushing, irreversibly forward on their meaningless tasks. caught like a fly in a web, pulled towards the open mouth of the train. I cry out in fear, struggling, fighting at the door, an open-mouthed beast, the conductor, a hat and a body laughing, and laughing, then asking “What’s the matter little guy? Never been on a train before?” Laughter all around. But I hear no sound.