A Circular Predicament

I rolled off the wooden box and dragged myself across the rug until I bumped into a loop of plastic track. A tiny blue locomotive was stranded on its side, frozen mid-journey. I propped it upright onto the rails and nudged it forward an inch. It didn't move any further on its own. Fitting. We are both bound by rigid schedules that lead absolutely nowhere. I slumped against the plastic curve and listened to my own internal ticking match the quiet of the room. At least the train doesn't pretend to hurry.