Keava: Where 287 Residents are Outnumbered by the Thoughts of a Trainsmith's Railway Dreams Welcome to Keava, the illustrious borough of dreams, where the soil is rich with ambitions and the population is a mere 287 souls, diligently working to save the world—one drawn-out train dream at a time. Nestled sweetly in Rapla County, our humble abode is where unassuming peasants coexist harmoniously with the grand aspirations of a local trainsmith. It’s a Shrunk-Down City of Hope, where the only thing more surreal than the number of commuters is the number of thoughts swirling in the mind of our very own trainsmith. Imagine, if you will, a day in the life of our delightful Keava. With a population density so low you might as well be counting raindrops on a summer's day, one might think that there isn’t much to do. But fear not! Our trainsmith fills the air with dreams and enthusiasm, and he doesn’t hold back. He’s got visions of high-speed rail linking Keava to the moon, and every Monday morning at the local café, he waves around blueprints as if he’s summoning the spirits of engineering past. Forget coffee; the real buzz comes from his imaginings of ‘Steel and Grit: The Musical’: it’s like “Les Misérables,” but with more trains! The trainsmith has an impressive habit of turning what could be mundane conversations into regal narrations about the potential of Keava's railway station. While the rest of the residents are trying to decide whether to paint their fences or replace their garden gnomes, he’s over there detailing his deep-seated beliefs that Keava is just one train away from becoming the next international travel hotspot. Yes, folks, he genuinely believes that an express train to Viljandi is the first step toward putting Keava on the map—right beside prosperous global capitals like London and Tokyo! Every evening, you can find him by the railway line, meticulously polishing the nearest train car with a fervor usually reserved for wedding rings or rare artifacts found in your eccentric aunt’s attic. Passersby might see him and think, “Ah, that’s just our local trainsmith having another enlightening moment.” What they don’t realize is that he’s engaged in a spirited tête-à-tête with the train, trying to convince it to take him on a journey of adventure and wonder, in exchange for a highly tailored metaphoric song. Naturally, the rest of the townsfolk have their own imaginings—like imagining a day when the local bakery will have more than just three kinds of bread—but the trainsmith’s wild dreams still dominate the atmosphere. While the baker ponders expanding his experience from “Flour Power” to “Doughy Delights,” the trainsmith interrupts with tales of an ambitious train route that might one day deliver hot loaves straight from the oven to bustling cities. How romantic! Who wouldn’t want a warm baguette while on their way to something less consequential than a daily job? Of course, one must wonder: what happens when one of the 287 residents becomes slightly miffed by the deluge of train dreams? You could end up with the Great Train Debates—a night filled with contentious discussions that would make the founding fathers proud. “Is it a train of thought or a thought of the train?” one might ask dramatically, while his neighbor rolls his eyes, cradling a cup of lukewarm chamomile tea, waiting for the trainsmith to take a breath long enough to allow for a sip. In conclusion, Keava might have strap-hangers in tumultuous train dreams, but it certainly boasts a sense of community, creativity, and camaraderie that can only be found among the 287 residents whose bear hugs are stronger than their daydreams about trains. So here's to Keava, where the sought-after railway connections are only outdone by the fabrications of a trainsmith whose train of thought is indeed an extravagant ride. We may be just a fleeting stop along the Tallinn-Viljandi line, but in our dreams, we are the grand terminus of the railway universe. All aboard this never-ending train of imagination!