Alone at the train station

Eyes closed, the trains screech past on rusty railways.

Dusty leaves sweep through the air in spiraling dances.

The ground is dirty, jaded, from the steps of a thousand busy travelers all anxious to reach their destinations, blurring the present moment with each hurried canter.

Deep breath. Rust and smoke claw at the tip of my nose. Exhale. Another breeze flies past, stinging my cheeks, forcing my hair to flit helplessly about.

Eyes open. The windows surging by in a continuous mirror reflect all that we are.

Indistinct smudges of color trudge hurriedly past one other, gazes fixed on their feet.

The soles will not take them where they long to go, another place, another dimension, another time, another life. So they continue, step by crunchy, scuffling step; forward as their final destination.



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