A little baby girl was getting her groove on in a train today. Daddy took her right arm, mummy took the left, and they boogied right on through the night. and I smiled in the full recognition that the perpetuity of anonymity between strangers will probably never give me the chance to be human to them again. A part of me will always appreciate the small things in life - from the shamelessness and blamelessness of a child in pink squeaky shoes to the absurdity of a grown man and woman dancing in rhythm to the hum and whir of train on tracks. They were good parents, I could tell. And children are but something to watch on train rides. But when it is all said and done, we are only passengers waiting to leave.
Something that will pass. Something that we'll forget. Something that we will smile over when we're old. And something that is ultimately nothing at all.
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