regret stalks the early morning train to work: a grizzly looking man stumbles through the carriage yelling nonsense in a language only he knows, lugging a plastic bag of plastic bottles. he shouts demands for answers at nobody in particular. every zombie holds their breath and phones to their stoney faces. nobody moves. his anger is unpleasant, too loud and scary for this early hour. I hope he alights at the next station. he does.
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