ladysigny:

I was warned, when I started this job, that being so close to the railroad tracks was bound to get supremely aggravating.

But I feel differently about it.

Once, sometimes twice a day, and rarely ever after noon, a train will go lumbering by the office.

It starts with the clang of the bells. Sometimes I have to strain to hear the sound, when the wind is carrying it away. There are no other signs, at first, that a train is actually coming. Just that shrill clang. And then, so softly at first, comes the hum. These trains are slow, majestic monsters of metal, taking their time as they wind through the factories and offices. The hum grows louder, and louder still, until it reverberates through the walls, and floors, and crawls up through my chair and into my skin. It fills my ears and blends with my heartbeat and soon the thrum is so loud and so powerful that I can only sit for a moment and wait for it to pass.

Just when the pulsing reaches my brain and might become an annoyance, the horn sounds, loud and sharp, and cuts through the rhythmic spell, setting me free to once again attend to my work.