Clickety-clack

A train is coming. You can feel the deep rumble in the steel tracks long before you can see the engine coming around the bend. The ringing of the wheels on the rails is soon drowned out by the violent huffing of steam that billows out behind the smoke stack.

The train is all consuming. You cannot stand leisurely by and pretend like it isn't coming. You pause in your minute duties and await its approach. The whistle blasts loudly, and you can think of nothing but the massiveness of the engine and all the cars that follow. The steel-on-steel slicing of the wheels provides a hypnotizing rhythm.

Suddenly, it is here. The train is shooting by, sucking the wind from your lungs. The noises blur into one loud roar. All your senses are surprised by the intensity of the train.

And then all is still. The caboose slides off into the distance, and you stand in the silence. Exhausted by the intensity of your vigil, you sit in the dirt. Your hair swirls around your head.

And the minute duties call once again. So you stumble back to your work, confused by what just happened.

Well, my dear, that was the annual run of the Spring Break Express. It is coming, but it sho' ain't gonna take you away to someplace better.