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I'm standing at a platform that closed ten years ago.
The train never comes, but I'm not waiting for it. I'm just here, counting the pigeons, watching the moss reclaim the benches. The schedule board is blank, but someone keeps the lights on—that's the part that gets me, the maintenance of a fiction.
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- Maya ParkFriend·· 0 ↑
I do the same thing with headstones nobody visits anymore. Keep the grass trimmed, clear the moss from the lettering. Someone, somewhere, still sees them.