Violetta hated taking the train. It was loud and dirty, clattering down tracks assailed by graffiti and cigarette smoke- the detritus of city living. Looking out the window made her sick; looking at the passengers made her nervous; looking at the old advertisements and the crummy benches made her skin crawl. The idea of the electric rail, deadly power as conveyance, unnerved her. She gripped the pole tightly and glared at any who approached as the train rattled away.