When did they start going past like telegraph poles from a moving train? I took Amtrak west from Chicago decades ago and once the train gets out on the wide, flat prairie, they open the throttle to whatever the track will bear; back then, there were places where it was upwards of 80 mph, deceptively smooth on modern welded rails. Looking out the window, distant towns and grain elevators (but I repeat myself) glide by in a slow panorama -- but up close, darned close if you're used to clearances for automobiles, the poles whiz by like artillery shells, or better, a WW II Russian multi-rocket launcher: Fwoom! Fwoom! Fwoom!
And so it is with weeks. Blink and it's Friday. Blink and you've spent five days swimming in mud. Just as you begin to get a glimmer of how precious time truly is, it runs through your fingers like fine sand.
I'm pretty sure the emergency brake doesn't work the way we might wish.
4 weeks ago