That Certain Amount
by
, 09-07-2012 at 11:39 PM (3137 Views)
I love the sound of the train. Both, when it pulls into town signaling – you could even tell the differences in the way the whistle is blown. The right person probably could distinguish who is the engineer for the evening. Not even just the train whistle, but sometimes I like to be near the tracks and just hear that clanking and grinding sound and feel the throb of all that power. Man has done terrible stuff.
A guy got hit by a train last spring the next town over. First thought it might've been a suicide until we discovered he may have been walking along listening to music with those stereo earphones and his iPod. You kind of wonder, how does a person get hit by a train, I mean by mistake? After all, you can see it coming, or hear it or even feel it. I'll bet, if it was a mistake, that the guy had time to realize his folly when it was too late. Just imagine.
But, then again, it was just that certain amount of time. That amount like when you realized, that the gig was up – the big gig. It was long enough to know that death was imminent, but not long enough to think of things like my children or what a shame it will be, not swimming in the ocean, and not skiing down the hill next winter, not making love to my wife (she was my girlfriend then) those kinds of things.
Nope, it wasn't a bad way to die.