New Year’s Eve and the clatter of suitcase handles defying the quiet car concerning the woman in the seat beside me silently screaming into her teeth. Pop! Pop! The train is under attack the assault we fled from our point of origin follows us as chaos kids chuck firecrackers on the rails, new worries, same as old and further furrowing the silent screamer. The air is must, jacketed bodies still heaving from the sprint to catch the train now sweating in repose and slipping off their winter shells and no one is comfortable so you know we must be traveling. Someone cracks a window to combat the stale air, sliced bread eaten plain & crumbs crumble the floor furrowing brows yet further. We’re all going somewhere as our minds trace where we’re coming from collectively and silently screaming “THIS YEAR WILL BE DIFFERENT” and most of us now sporting furrowed brows as the train pulls us inevitably forward towards the future.