Outside, through paper-thin walls I heat the train whistle, hear it rumble away as it calls and this little city perhaps mildly hears it, otherwise ignores it, but not me. I smiled silently as it tooted a message across blacktops and rooftops, sat still as it chugged and cycled away. Pleased was I to hear the whistle blew, knowing somewhere off, you heard one too. Besides the minor pull-over, the day--the weekend--cruised smoothly to a near top ten. And these visions keeping hanging around flickering on the silver screen of memory like a black and white film without sound; make this a romantic. Oh this is an ornamental fate; I should have known that the crash of a shimmering blue was the firework boom of a "sneeze": I love you. Forever and ever, for eternity, I do.