Twenty miles from my house stands a huge open field with a set of train tracks laying down its forged rails all the way to the horizon. But what’s this? A parallel set of tracks, maybe fifty yards to the right of the original, runs its course alongside the first. Two trains are obviously welcome to clatter their way up and down the valley, carrying their agricultural treasures to the rest of the state. 

I guess we need two of them. But so close together? I wonder if eighty years ago the men who first hammered those iron rails into place didn’t see the other work crew from across the field and wave from time to time. Why, look at that team of workers over there. Seems we could’ve collaborated somehow, saved ourselves a few blisters and a fortune.