Stand well back of the yellow line
Those that do not take the GO train would
have to use some imagination, those that do, will know exactly what I mean.
A commuter taking the GO train to downtown Toronto every morning was standing on the platform waiting
for the train. He was dressed up in a suit as usual. Today the suit
was gray. Underneath, freshly pressed white shirt and neatly added
tie. Hair freshly cut, appearing as he just left a barber shop, clean and
without any tiny hair out of place. With him a black briefcase probably holding
a laptop, stacked in between his legs.
His day most likely started with the usual routine since everything that he appears to be doing is part of his routine. Breakfast probably boiled eggs, maybe bowl of cereal with milk, but for sure not McDonald's breakfast. He probably did not grab a coffee yet. He would be at Union Station way before his work starts and he would grab coffee nearby.
Just as he does every day, on the way in he stopped to pick his newspaper from the stand. If you look closer you notice it is Globe and Mail, and not Toronto Sun, Star, the free Metro, or Burlington Post. He is now reading with interest the paper he grabbed . Probably checking his stock so make sure his retirement investment is growing.
When looking around you could realize that he did not really differ from hundreds of other morning commuters. All seem to be dressed up, freshly cleaned and groomed. There was something however about this individual, something that caught the eye. It was the place where he was standing.
On the other side of the tracks a notice "Please stand well back of the yellow line" was hanging. After reading the sign, eyes by itself could move to the standing man and his feet. A thick yellow line was painted a foot or two from the edge of the platform and less than an inch from this line appeared tips of his shoes.
At this very moment you could hear a warning bell of a coming train. You knew this train, because this train was here every morning at the exact time. This train never slows down. This VIA train just passes the station rushing to get the out of GTA commuters to Union. On the sound of the bell, just like yesterday, the gentleman without any rush folded his newspaper in 4.
The bells appeared to be closer with every millisecond.
He bent down and picked his briefcase from between his legs.
You could hear already the sound of rushing air from underneath the wheels of the coming train.
He straighten himself and made a step backwards.
At this very moment the air pushed dirt and tiny grains of sand across everyone’s face, and forced the eyes to close and the heads to turn.
After the air returned to normal everyone was able to relax and continue what they were doing before, together with our stranger. Taking again the position at the yellow line today, tomorrow, ….
