Have you ever looked under your seat on one of those trains? I didn’t think so. Well I like to think of myself as a modern-day Santa. I leave things under the seats...
The top deck of the train—reserved for those seeking solitude, and parents with young, wailing children beating the windows with their palms. Not exactly the refuge I was seeking, yet here I was within this paradox. A symbiotic culture of yeast and bacteria it was not. For all you Kombucha drinkers out there, you know what I mean—wink, wink.
Have you ever looked under your seat on one of those trains? I didn’t think so. Well I like to think of myself as a modern-day Santa. I leave things under the seats on trains. Makes me feel good giving gifts to others—because that’s what I like to think of myself—a giver. The next time you take the train, if you’re lucky enough, maybe you’ll find something under the train seat left especially for you. You’ll know it’s from me because of the wrapping—craft paper and a red, stringy bow. Simple yet it'll make you feel all special—because that's how I want your last moment to feel.
So if you find it, go ahead and open it—finders keepers—it was meant for you. And when it blows up in your face, think of it as a kiss from God—because that’s where your train’s heading.
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