It also tickled me a little to think (68, 69...) that these train tracks were within three miles of where I'd been that little child, and that maybe the train whistle I heard at night all those years ago was echoing from this very crossing (80, 81, 82...) I found myself getting day dreamy and relaxed. (98, 99, 100...)
There were 114 cars on that train, and when the train clear, that little girl from all those years ago continued her drive.
She was eating a tuna fish sandwich much like the ones a mother would pack in a school lunch, before the days of Lunchables and the like. There would be a piece of fruit, and a cookie. No drink. They sold milk at school. Milk for two cents, a whole pint of it, white only, no chocolate, in a glass bottle with a just paper tab that pulled out, long before the days of tamperproof packaging. Sometimes you'd drop your bottle on the way to the rack where the bottles were returned. The cafeteria would get quiet and everyone would look, and you wished that you could hide...
And when that little girl got to her meeting, she was relaxed and quiet inside, and she was not late. She took a moment to come back to the present, and went to work once again.