My mom and I decided to fuel my caffeine addiction and drive through Starbucks this morning. As I fumbled for my wallet, the barista at the window told us that the car before us had paid for our coffee and wanted us to have a wonderful day.
Honestly, I had been feeling really dejected this morning for some reason and those people just made today infinitely better. It’s amazing what a small act of kindness can do. So we decided to pay for the car behind us.
I love everyone.
Can you hear that? It happens around this time every night— The whistling of the train. Can you hear that strangely romantic, melancholy sound? It is a cry that sails through the night on wings of shadows and fluorescent lights. It is the call of sorrow. Of confusion. Of loneliness. Of farewell. The sound of that train will dance through the darkness and gently caress the eardrums of the mourners in soft acknowledgement. The sound of that train will waltz into the lives of the euphoric and joyfully sink into the track of their effervescent laughter.
Wether the whistling of trains holds meaning in the lives of others, I will never know. But I do know that somehow, in some small way, I was just connected to hundreds of people at once.