Midnight Train Station

The train station is as brightly lit up as a shop display and running like clockwork. An announcement drifts across the platforms and, minuites later, a trains sweeps in and hisses to a halt. Everything is running perfectly.

But there isn’t a soul there.

The empty trains arrive and the exausted doors wheeze open then stand, for minuites on end, waiting for passengers that will never climb on. A rusty ‘way out’ sign creaks very slowly back and forth. The vending machines stand like sentry guards, their tired rows of unwanted chocolates illuminated for no-one to see. A disembodied voice echoes forlornly in the silence, reminding passengers not to leave their baggage unattended. Litter scrapes across the concrete, swirling in mini cyclones, propelled by wind from a passing train; a train with row upon row of empty seats.

It’s a ghost town, with trains full of nothing but air.


2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Dad
    Oct 19, 2012 @ 17:24:03

    Great descriptive prose! Not a soul there? Perhaps there were a few of the invisible variety…. Score 9.9/10.


  2. Anne Schilde
    Oct 20, 2012 @ 20:25:50

    This looks like one of the pictures I considered when I posted The Station. I love the emptiness of this and I’ve dreamed of a station very much like your description. I really like the vending machine sentries.


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