I was sure it was a half coil of kielbasa. My half-Ukrainian heart broke. It must have rolled out of someone's bag. It just lay there. Forgotten.
Let's take a moment of silence. For the coil. And for the poor commuter whose lunch plan is ruined.
Thursday, January 7, 2016
A human tragedy
This morning, while exiting the train, and heading down the stairs with the herd, I noticed something on the floor of the bi-level coach, halfway under a seat. I did a double-take.
I was sure it was a half coil of kielbasa. My half-Ukrainian heart broke. It must have rolled out of someone's bag. It just lay there. Forgotten.
Let's take a moment of silence. For the coil. And for the poor commuter whose lunch plan is ruined.
I was sure it was a half coil of kielbasa. My half-Ukrainian heart broke. It must have rolled out of someone's bag. It just lay there. Forgotten.
Let's take a moment of silence. For the coil. And for the poor commuter whose lunch plan is ruined.
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