The train

The window shudders on the train, warping view for a split moment before returning sharp normality. The question is whether you appreciate the sight of the warp, or find relief in it returning to blank state.
There is a splatter of what looks like some forgotten beer across the floor, memories of someone’s late last night, converging to early morning.
Papers rustle as the train rocks, an old man sighs from weariness as he adjusts his footing. A man stands for a lady and joins me, and I smile at his pleasantness.
“Nice day today”. A large smile.
I try to smile back but it doesn’t quite work.
“Yea, good weather”.
The man smiles again, but having fulfilled the minimal social requirements, he turns away.
He has eyes for a girl the row over, that much is obvious, and she blushes as he grins. For a second I envy him, and then it is lost again, as the train moves me further from each emotion.
Despite earlier admonishments, the sky above grows dark.

Having reached my destination, or rather a frame of mind I am content to not train away from, I step off, and feel the rain. 

A rumble of thunder in the distance, the sky spattering us all softly. Me, outside in my sodden shirt, watching people scurry, covering up with jumpers and complaining about their god pissing down on them. 

And then, with a great crack of lightning and a rumble of beast, the marbled sky opens up, and it pours.

(Image source:  by Alex-Hay on deviantart)