could last anywhere from a few minutes to an hour, though the announcer’s use of the word “significant” led me to believe I was going to be stuck for at least another thirty minutes, based on prior experience. “Great. Guess I’m getting cooked alive…” I grumbled as I hung my head in resignation, the harsh sunbeams beating down mercilessly on the back of my neck. I lifted the sleeve of my button-down and wiped a trickle of sweat from my temple before it could get into my eye. You’d think it wouldn’t be too hard for them to install a covered waiting area with an AC unit, but then again, this station didn’t even have automated turnstiles, so perhaps that was too great a luxury. All I could do was hobble over to one of two small benches under the rickety wooden shelter to try to get some relief from the heat. One of the two was already occupied by a couple of girls from my high school, chattering blithely as though the scorching weather didn’t bother them in the slightest. “Hell yes! Looks like we might get out of first period gym class after all!” “Aww, but that poor deer, though…” “Hey, survival of the fittest, right?” It was like this every morning. These two never seemed to be on quite the same wavelength—but judging from their perpetual giggling, this apparently didn’t bother them all that much. I took the empty seat opposite them and scooted as far down the bench as I could so as not to make them feel like I was intruding on their conversation. The shade did sadly little to cool me off, so I undid the top button of my shirt and flapped the collar a few times to give myself some air as I leaned against the backrest. Then, as if in answer to my prayers, a pleasant coastal breeze blew by, filling my nostrils with the pungent smell of sea salt. Just across the tracks, the land gradually sloped down before dropping off into the sea. Over the edge of the cliff, the light blue sky turned paler and paler as it approached the hazy horizon, while in turn, the sea grew a deeper, fuller shade of cerulean. The ocean waves shimmered softly in the sunlight. There was something almost inherently therapeutic about looking out over the ocean in the early morning—similar to watching the fragile flicker of candlelight or the cascading course of a babbling brook. It was one of those