The Station

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The Station

The fading sun flared through canopy of the frozen vegetation, reflecting off the tiny white crystals that were embedded on the metallic track. Glancing at clear odourless sky, I noticed a speck, high, flying above, which at the next moment had disappeared into a swollen hazy cloud. I didn't know what it was. As I paced across the stone floor next to a dilapidated wall , I glanced at the blazing yellow line, which discharged an ominous aura; then I realised that beyond the line, on the other platform, a lamp post was flickering, on and off, like some possessed being beyond all human intellect.

The wind picked up. Along with the wind came a concoction of powdered snow with the addition of fragmented leaves. Because of the war being conducted outside I decided to retreat indoors to wait for my train. I sauntered into the room in a vigilant fashion, but inconspicuously. It was warm in the newly refurbished longue, which contradicted the external part of the building. The walls had an even covering of brown paint that glistened under neatly installed lights. There were leather seats, but all were taken. This