Clocks

As our train pulls into a peripheral Bratislava station a couple of Sunday's ago a huddle of riot police await an incoming train on another platform. Presumably for an incoming entourage of football related hooligans (British 1980's throwback style...). But unbeknown to them the train arrives at a different platform. Keystone cops comes to mind as the huddle quickly cross the lines to welcome all but a few surprised disembarking passengers with no association to any team.
Glum faces in my carriage staring into blank telephone screens probably missed this magical moment of entertainment. No audience for this prime viewing. 
Maybe I'm more absorbed with my whereabouts than any technology. The clocks can stand still if you want, like at old man Foytik's home, who sadly passed away a few months back. Snow comes and snow goes, the visual effect is there to be enjoyed. Try it.