Nothing much happens: bedtime stories to help you sleep
Merry Much Happens
Catherine Nicolai
And as it stopped to let a freight train chug across its tracks, I leaned down and saw their dining car lit up and full of passengers and servers. White tablecloths were spread over the tables and meals and drinks laid out. Again, I imagined myself there. What might I order? Or would I be the bartender, shaking up a cocktail behind the bar as the snowy land slipped past?
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