Illustration by Börkur Sigurbjörnsson
I struggled with focusing on my reading, interrupted by a boy across the aisle who babbled on endlessly.
“Daddy,” said the boy. “Are all the people going to London?”
“I don’t know,” answered the father.
“Daddy! How far is it to London by train?”
“Daddy! If someone were too poor to pay the fare and had to walk to London, how long would it take?”
“A few days.”
“Daddy! And when they arrived in London, would they be dead?”
“Yes,” answered the father. “Dead-tired.”