Hobo Tough -

They lay flat against the freezing floor, Artie using his own heavy wool coat to bridge the gap between them, sharing the meager warmth. He’d survived the Great Flood of '93 and the winter of '08 by knowing exactly how much a human body could take before it broke.

"I'm... I'm fine," the kid gasped, his fingernails already turning a bruised purple. hobo tough

Artie exhaled a cloud of blue smoke. "Soft people think toughness is an edge. It’s not. It’s a curve. You learn to bend so the wind goes over you. You learn that 'enough' is a feast, and 'tomorrow' is a luxury." They lay flat against the freezing floor, Artie

"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." I'm fine," the kid gasped, his fingernails already

"How do you do it?" the kid asked. "How do you stay out here?"

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