I do not deliver coal, though one of my cars is piled with shapeless black lumps. I do not deliver milk, though my tankers are marked with cows. I do not deliver trees nor furniture nor cattle.
The station master has more important needs that I can provide for.
Of course he does not need regular shipments of my goods. His schedule is erratic. It does not matter. When he calls, I deliver on time.
He finds other suppliers on occasion. That green cylinder that makes those strange noises – he uses it like he used to use my friend the Sword. The Sword’s been sent Under the Bed, but I’m not afraid.
He always comes back to me. He loves his trains.
New is only new for a little while; only trains always deliver joy on time.
See more from the Nation of the Child here.