Lunches packed. Faces scrubbed. Where’s my train hat? No time for that now. We’re off.
I thought I was dreaming of train whistles last night but was instead woken up by the squeaking springs of the neighbor’s bed upstairs. 3:00? Who has sex at three in the morning? Especially the night before your neighbors are about to catch the train.
Squeak, squeak, squeak. Luckily her train came in on time and it grew quiet. I yelled up at the ceiling, “Next stop, Oregon City! All aboard!”, then fell back asleep.
I think trains must get everyone a little excited.