The Train Station
The train station was filled with people; strangers that never took their eyes from their feet, smilers to whom the favor was not returned, babies, children luggin some filthy plush animal that wold be forgotten in ten years' time. All were joined by the air of urgency that flowed over them and through each stone that made up the grand train station.
Each track with its own life beckoned to a train. Each track with its own people, running To, running From, going to work, hiding from work, visiting, avoiding. They all had a purpose. A reason for being there.
A reason for being on that track.









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