Since I was 10 years old, I’ve thrilled to the electric train in the window of the St. Paul Street hobby shop. You press your hand to the glass and WHOOSH! watch it go.
Now, the store front sits empty. The hobby shop and the train gone forever.
Luckily, before it was all swept away, I got to visit with a friend and his son to watch the train ride the rails one last time.
As we walked off, the owner of the adjacent tattoo shop emerged, offering a bottle of hand sanitizer. “I see people pee on that window all the time,” he told us. My friend and his son quickly washed their hands.
That kind of took the wind out of my nostalgia.