Assume you want to go on a trip. Somewhere nice.
Whatever your definition of nice is, it can be granted.
Imagine the clothes you are packing. You take some sweats, put them on.
You want to be comfy.
Check your ticket. It’s a train ticket. You’re going to the train station.
The taxi taking you there has the smell of death but you ignore it because you’re so excited.
Once in the train station, there are some guards checking everyone’s tickets. One by one. You understand you will be no exception, so you look for yours in your pocket.
There it is. Right where you left it two minutes ago.
Train stations have never been your favorite kind of station. Right behind the police station, there’s a train station.
But you’ve never thought of the word station that way, with a map of possible stations attached to it. So you shake your head and smile.
Oh! My favorite would be a radio station, of all stations, you quickly add. Then shake your head, again. No smile this time.
