Train north

Capoeira old
The old man stares out of the window at the waist high weeds that line the tracks.
Now and again he glances back at my foreign face, then returns to the long fields of weeds.
Stations pass by exchanging passengers, my one is the next, with that thought the old man stands up.

He walks clasping the bars to the doors. As we pull into the station he takes off his shoes
and does a handstand, hitting his old feet against the grimey glass door Windows.

And from the waiting exiters also expecting to disembark, there was no reaction.



Cloudy morning

The youngest boy sits with his parentes and his brother in the corner of the train.
They are obviously awaiting a day of Family fun somewhere entertaining.
The boy kicks his mother´s and father´s legs softly with his sandals.
His brother whispers to him and taps his sunhat down just to tease him.

I turned my head as we pulled into a station to see who had boarded.
It must have been less than two seconds by the time I turned my head back.
The Family were all standing and I could smell a very odd smell indeed.
As the train picked up again leaving the station and the family grabbed support bars I could see...
The youngest boy was curved over finishing maybe his sixth or seventh eruption of milky puke.

I thought to myself thank god this is my stop another two or three stations with that smell
and I would be painting the seats myself.