What's the glue or 'itness' that keeps the world together?
A man in his late 60s, early 70s travels from Dublin Heuston to Millstreet every Thursday evening. Departure time is 19.00.
He is on it every Thursday. Then one day he is seen travelling on the Kerry Dublin train that arrives in Heuston at 17.25.
Is it that the man does this every day? Of course it is his business. If he does do it every day is there something sad about it? Is he anymore sad than the rest of humankind?
Observing him walking out through the car park at Millstreet just before 10pm on Thursday one had to ask where was he going. Was he going to someone? Would he be chatting at home later with family? There is a frightened look in his face, a look that says, 'I'm all on my own'. There is also a severity about him. On the train he never seems to speak with anyone and all the time his eyes seem to move with great speed observing everything within reach.
Of course it would be inappropriate to ask him about himself. Or would it?
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