He just stood there with his forehead pressed up against the window. Shaking and bumping up against it with the motion of the train. His tiny feet planted on the seat. Watching the walls fly by. Chunks of darkness seasoned with patches of light. Seeing nothing, seeing everything. Maybe wondering what he was missing or maybe thinking he was seeing everything. It was incredibly rote for me, but for him, it was fantastic. Comforting enough so that he did it every time he got on the train. I wondered if he'd ever stop.
-RTB
