There are some long ones in the area I live in. 

Really long. 

Trains, that is. 

So long that halfway in, two more engines appear. 

They sometimes stop. 

Then slowly get moving again. 

You listen to the banging as it travels from car to car down the train. 

Then, out of nowhere, he appears. 

‘Jean-Jacques’ 

‘Train Graffiti Critique Extraordinaire.’ 

He is known all over the world. 

His reviews can make or break you. 

Graffiti Artists from across the globe await his critiques. 

Jean-Jacques must work at the speed of the train. 

It is a fast but thoughtful critique. 

Jean-Jacques has it down. 

Use of space, use of colours, message, style, neatness, and technique are all considered. 

Two sixes, lots of sevens, a few eights, one nine, and one ten. 

Jean-Jacques works alone, and silently. 

You can barely tell he is ‘working.’ 

But his audience begins to build. 

They start to collect on both sides of the passing train. 

He can see them on the other side, in between the train cars. 

Finally, the last Train Car goes by. 

‘Eight.’ 

Jean-Jacque’s work is done. 

Careers have been made, and careers have been broken. 

Jean-Jacques gets back on his bike, and so does his massive audience. 

He crosses the crossing and makes a left. 

His entire audience goes right. 

He rides about a kilometre in the other direction, turns around, and heads back. 

The path is now his, and his alone. 

Jean-Jacques prefers to ‘work’ without the audience. 

‘DING DING DING DING DING’ 

Insert painter’s palette emoji here. 

‘There is another way to ride.’