most things are not what they used to be before .
the trains and buses, especially, do not run on time .
walter gruck waited impatiently for the midnight train to downtown.
walter gruck - that’s a funny name - go ahead and laugh.
as a young man, walter always tried to do right.
but he never got anywhere as the years went by.
nobody paid any attention to him or invited hm anywhere..
if they did, he could not get there on time.
walter found that the buses and trains were always late.
and traffic on the streets and freeways - forget about it.
well, you may ask, is that not true for everybody?
but walter was not a philosopher - he took everything personally.
on this particular night the temperature was falling somewhat dramatically.
walter was alone on the platform, as he usually was.
suddenly a figure appeared on the platform, strummng a guitar.
it was walter’s old archnemesis, the angel of atrophied entropy.
waiting for a train, it sang, waiting for a train.
i wish i was anywhere but here, walter exclaimed furiously.
i’m just waiting for a train, the angel crooned soothingly.,
the demon of discord appeared, wearing a plain green t-shirt.
walter started to ask the demon if he was cold.
no one is cold, the demon replied, only the flowers.
and the flowers are black holes, the angel added sagely.
walter woke up - on death row in arkansas state penitentiary.
he never tried to make sense of his endless dreams.
four hours until breakfast, he thought resignedly, and rolled over.
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