The impetus of dream realization? That would show itself. It did, too. In the form of a truck carrying flammable gas. Big, white and bulbous tanks. It had a sign on its rear that read: “WILL BRAKE AT ALL RR CROSSINGS” which I took that for a sign from fate. It was headed exactly in route to collide with the RR CROSSING of my train’s engineer and, likewise, his dreams.

The gas truck driver waved me around, seeing me coming up hard behind him in my stationwagon. But I knew better. He had to stop and began slowing to evidence this fact. I was still a good quarter block away (I’d kept a decent berth between us previously), so he stopped at the crossing anyway, perhaps against his better judgment. The train signal went off and the barrier gates went down. I tucked and rolled, coming to a standstill dizzily and bruised by the curb. My stationwagon was, meanwhile, still on its collision course, because I’d just had the alignment fixed and the garage I take it to does good, reliable work. The driver of the gas truck escaped, burning the soles of his sneakers away from the cab. Happy for that.

My stationwagon struck the the truck just as the freight train was coming into view, sending the engine spinning off the rails. I thought I could see its engineer waving his cap from a window up front, just as it took off airborne and to its left. Airborne for some seconds, I think.

That’s what’ll happen to a train deferred.

I never liked the stationwagon much, anyway.