Journeys.

You move, you settle down further, with each little shake. Your knee gets comfortable under  someone else’s. Your shoulder embraces another’s. Sometimes you borrow the headlines and use your glasses to see the printed letters. There could be hot cups of coffee and tea and oily snacks that smell nice. But you keep moving. You slowly melt into the crowd. The soft rocking and the lullaby weakens you. All you want to do is stay down and die a temporary peaceful death. 

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