Kids

The train is late — short by distance, long by hours

we’ll be reaching in 20 minutes

they have been telling us since morning

noon has set in

Miniature siblings hit one another with empty plastic bottles.

Another kid — bespectacled, alone, sits by the window looking out —

he has listened to music, laughed to himself and now he reveals nothing.

A group of kids on a school trip have emptied a bottle of water onto a seat

I wonder who’ll be sitting in that!

one of them muses.

Another has the idea of soaking it up with blankets and towels.

They then proceed to give one another chase,

blankets and towels in hand.

Two of them push a suitcase on its wheels back and forth,

back and forth.

They play their music loudly — punjabi rap, western pop, the music that plays behind games on cell phones that are bigger than their palms

and headphones larger than the heads between them.

Their hair has been made to resemble waves, frozen in motion

and they scream and laugh and cry and make all the noises we learn not to make all that often.

We are now over 3 and a half hours late.

They are restless,

we are tired,

all of us waiting to arrive.