in the train station they careened and veered like go cart drivers, or antelope averting some predator. men and women in hundred dollar suits. it was about 5pm. it happens almost every day at 5pm. people fill commuter terminals everywhere then disperse as quickly as they came. each of them wore the sternness of their goal on their faces, not satisfied until the burden of the day is left behind and the freedom of familiar personal comfort surrounds them. the resolution of this mission is probably, on average, the most exciting part of their day. just going home.
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