Immerging from the past

It happens several times a day in this town. A pause in time for all people present. You first hear it, then, more indicators emerge. Lights flashing, red and white striped gates coming down, long draws on the horn and the signal dinging. And it doesn't matter if this train will make you late for your job, the bus, etc. you are (forced or willingly) thrust into a moment of time that feels like you have gone back into the future. People try to avoid it, racing through the last chance light, riding the side street to get ahead of it or around it. In most cases it is so long you just can't reasonably avoid it. The cars stop, just feet from the enormous machinery clanking along. You stand on the sidewalk thinking how insane it is that you can get this close to something so large, potentially dangerous and awesomely powerful. As you watch the cars go by you, like all of the people stopped, you read the sides. Some say things like, "Molten Sulfur", "Edible or Inedible Tallow", etc. For a moment it crosses your mind what it would be like if the molten sulfur were spread all over the road in front of you and what exactly your escape plan would be for that. The ding dinging of the train warning signal reverberates through the downtown parking garage and the early morning silence contribute to the feeling that the train pushed its way through a time portal, freezing modernity, stopping time, for all to see. About 80 cars, ten minutes and the train completes its pass through that part of town. The last car passes, the dinging stops, and the lights start working again. The cars are off, people are rushing across the road and back to reality. But now your late.