A VICIOUS JUNGLE

Kate used to take the early morning train to work. On the way, the train enters a jungle, not a very long drive with in.

Today she sat beside an old grey-haired man who was shivering from cold.

Are you okay, I don’t need my uniform jacket? Kate asked.

No answer, again: do you need any help, Sir, you might faint?

A tear drop felled on a jerky cheek; resting his palm on the cold window trying to feel the mist.

Or wipe it, Kate thought.

Speechless, he remained.

It is sunny now, mist did vanish, train just exited the jungle.

Grey-haired slowly turned to Kate and whispered:

Baby; we die, we exit.

Sir, jangled, I can hardy hear you.