i often take the express train home from work. at train time, i'm standing on the platform facing south. everyone else is facing north. they're watching the train. staring really. with slack jaws. i'm watching them. i wonder what they're thinking. it certainly isn't about what happened here yesterday. it's like a horror show. i know what's going to happen. it happens to the same people every day. the train comes. it's slowing. but is still moving pretty fast through the construction zone just north of the platform. the train picks up a huge cloud of dirt dust and other construction debris in its wake. the train pulls into the station. the pressure wave parts the hair on the back of my head. it drives said dust debris and particulates into the waiting passengers' eyes, up their noses, and into their mouths. some might remember this happened to them yesterday. but it won't matter. i won't see a single bald spot or hair whorl tomorrow.