Sta.sh
I don't think I've ever actually explained this before, so in case anyone stumbles across this page and wonders:
I like comets. They are pretty and have a nice name and go very fast.
I like trains. They are pretty and are a nice way to travel go very fast.
I live in a semi-famous railroad city, and we used to have a little museum dedicated to trains. When I was little, I saw a tiny little exhibit on the Comet train. [link] I couldn't read that well, but I could make out the word "Comet" and saw a picture of a train, and from that point on I always thought it would be awesome to ride a train that was pulled by a comet. It would be called the "Comet Express," because it would go really, really fast, and I would be the conductor, and life would be awesome.
So yeah.
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--
It runs from the crackling logs, from the bravado of Liszt,
from the chandelier in the ballroom, from glasses and guests,
over the piano in flames and jumps--
from rosettes and dice, roses and knucklebones.
Boris Pasternak
--
It runs from the crackling logs, from the bravado of Liszt,
from the chandelier in the ballroom, from glasses and guests,
over the piano in flames and jumps--
from rosettes and dice, roses and knucklebones.
Boris Pasternak