Smoke turned the station to black and white, gray figures drifting and buildings hovering like ghosts about to disappear. And a whistle blew.
The small boy sucked his thumb, kicked his feet, and lost a shoe. The approaching train could have been a monster rushing from barren wastes. But when Dad’s told you to sit, you stay in place.
Brakes sighed. Wheels screeched. Black and white turned smoky gray. Then Dad’s long arm lifted the boy into the air. “You almost got left behind,” he cried. And the boy just wriggled his wristd till he could suck his thumb again.