Run, White Boy, Run
At every Go Train stop, there will be several stragglers running for the train. Perhaps hundreds of people get on at every stop, and 3-5 will be runners. Those,in suits or high heels, willing to sacrifice their dignity and pose to just make a break for it in a final, desperate attempt to be on time. Should they make it, they will be awash with Olympic victory and revelation. Should they fail…
Should they ascend the platform steps only to see the gates of heaven close in their faces, you will see a look up utter despair and destruction of resolve. They can only look into the eyes of those who successfully made it . We, on the train, know what they’re thinking. We’ve been there. We’re glad we’re not they. Inwardly we laugh.
Is this what heaven is? A place where no matter how dull or uninspiring the train might be, it still is better than where those who failed to make it, stand. Those who didn’t pass the test. Those who didn’t follow the Go Train rules.
The sinners.
