It's done. The coal cars are gone. The siamese boxcar has moved on from your apartment complex, sloughing off the appendage and letting it rot into nothing before you knew it. It fluttered a little but left after a while. The coal cars haven't come back but now the wooden bridge that smells like tar groans from the weight of the siamese boxcar. But it just sits there like it has been, all through the heat and cold and rain and snow and heat. It just sits there and you keep walking like you do every day. All the while red clay mixes with brown grit and nothing's moving but things are changing. They are changing and you can feel it.
The sun will be gone by the time you pass the train tracks tonight. The coal cars are gone and the siamese boxcar is gone and the snow has long melted away but still waits to slip you up on the sidewalk if you're not careful--even if you are careful. You hear a train coming but never see it pass.