On Top

The suitcases stood piled on top of each other next to his feet as he stood waiting. His hat left on top of the pile.
He was early, habit. He liked to be on top of things.
The wind was beginning to pick up as the minutes ticked by, there would be a storm by the end of the journey, he knew that much. He also knew the journey would take time.
His hat would have to weather several storms he felt, he would have to be prepared for that. He was, he was on top of things.
There was no doubt in his mind that he needed to make this journey. He was ready for it. He knew it would all be worth it when he got there.
The sky was cloaked a little as the train pulled into the station in front if where he stood.
"Need a hand with your bags, mister?" a boy asked him.
"No thanks, I'm on top of it."