Playing Chicken


I see people play chicken with the trains almost everyday.

They run across the tracks when the train pulls in and they don’t want to miss it,  ignoring the fact that another train can be racing down the other track out of their view.

Those encounters don’t always end in victory- the sprinter doesn’t always make their train at the last minute, they don’t always end up in their seats laughing about how close that was.

Some people run for it when it’s raining or icy and it’s easy to slip and fall and sometimes meet your end because nobody saw you go down, the train starts to move  and as the staff from the medical examiners walk up and down the tracks and look under the train for your body parts,  you might be tagged a suicide.

Every once and awhile I see something puzzling that doesn’t involve a game of chicken like-

I saw a few strands of crime scene tape on a light post a little ways down from the tracks and  didn’t put much thought into it because they were only a view strands of yellow tape, so I kept walking and as I walked I heard something under my feet go crunchy, crunchy, crunch and I assumed it was salt or grit because it had iced over a few days before.

As I walked closer to the tracks I saw the ground was glittering with shards of light blue glass and then I saw small chunks of metal and plastic.

I crossed the tracks and on the other side of the tracks I saw  larger chunks of metal and realized the chunks of metal were the decorative scrolls from the light posts and they are not light my friends. One was a little bigger then my hand and it had some weight to it.

Somebody had painted circles around the chunks of metal and sure I wondered why.

I suppose I could ask around and find out what happened and it’s not that I don’t care. It’s just that sometimes I see things and file them away in my head.

They’re little puzzles for me to go over on those long train rides home and there are no games of chicken for me to watch.

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso


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