Tough — Hobo

"The steel wants to eat you," Artie said, leaning back against the vibrating wall. "It’s a giant heat-sink. Never sit directly on the floor when it's sub-zero. Sit on your pack. Or sit on your pride, if it’s thick enough."

When the sun finally cracked the horizon, bathing the desert in a deceptive, pale gold, the train slowed at a siding. The kid crawled out, stiff but alive. He looked at Artie, who was already lighting a hand-rolled cigarette with steady fingers. hobo tough

As the train crested the mountain pass, a "bull"—a private rail security guard—shined a high-powered spotlight into the car during a slow-down. The kid panicked, looking to jump. "The steel wants to eat you," Artie said,

He stepped off the grainer, his joints popping like dry kindling, and started walking toward the nearest treeline. He wasn't looking for a home; he was just looking for the next fire. Sit on your pack

Should we explore Artie's and what drove him to the rails, or