Work in Progress

This morning I woke up shivering, wet and crying.
Walking to work a train station appeared for the first
time in a spot that was empty the day before.
Trains clack in and hurtle out, far more frequently
than arrivals at the stations either side.

I watch the latest ghost train derail, the fifth.
Another bystander tells me the station going up
this quickly created so many jobs. After all, you
can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs.
A policeman concurs, 'aren't we all a bit off the
rails, these days?' he jokes, zipping up a body bag.

I'm late for work. I explain to my manager that I
was watching the trains derail. He tells me that
he of course thinks civilian deaths are tragic, but
that you can't make an omelette without breaking a few
eggs. The world is bigger than me, and I still have
responsibilities.

I never used to take the train home. On the train home
I saw one I knew, I stopped him crying 'Stetson! You
who were with me on the ships at Mylae! Did we have to
break a few eggs to make an omelette?'. He looks at me
blankly. We don't remember. Our train comes off the rails.