The minutes rush – absolutely run for life – like a train on full speed, afraid to be stopped, afraid to be late, breathlessly fast. And I stand on one side, looking on in panic: it’s going away from me. And you sit on the other, relaxed, unworried, unaware. Not your train, not your concern. And though I try to ask in alarm why you wouldn’t notice what’s leaving us (what if it’s really forever?), you are on the other side of a rushing train and cannot see or at any rate cannot understand what I may be thinking. So the blur rushes out. Time for me to go. Dreading that you with impeccable politeness would suggest the exit, I rush towards the exit myself. I cannot see or hear or think anything anymore anyway.

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