sitting in the station waiting

ticket in hand

the soaring columns disappear into the darkness

lights flood in

music soothes

people sit and move about

some seem to disappear without warning

others appear from the ticket windows taking their places

attendants move through the crowd

giving bread and wine

“wait,” they say


outside you see green hills

hear laughter

someone crying

leaving the station you meet a child

who smiles and takes your hand

there are no trains

5/18 LV
Copyright Michael Douglas Scott