A traveller's guide to the train station

The passageway, or: why nothing seems quite right and everything is exactly the way it's supposed to be.

It's an eerie observation to make, how everything falls silent. Have you never noticed? There's no birds, no locals babbling about, just the whistle of the ever-cold wind and the wheezing of traintracks. There's nothing. And if you decide to leave the station, there's even less. Here, there isn't even the occasional stranded traveller to keep you silent company – just empty streets. The bars are never open. No store has its lights on. And if you wander further, you'll see houses that visually appear inhabited, yet seem utterly abandoned. It's eerie; especially since you can tell there's nobody here. It’s just… you. Don't wander off too far though – lest you miss the train. It’s easy to, after all, since time doesn’t seem to flow the same way here. And never, ever, forget the way back to the station. It's the only way out. Keep that in mind.

Best to never leave its safety in the first place. The station is just the passageway, the beginning. Neither quite here nor there. It doesn’t seem to be anywhere, really. “The in-between” is what I’ve relented to calling it, but not even that seems quite accurate. It’s… too concrete, almost. Franzensfeste, in my opinion, was never meant to be more than a hazy memory. Something that should appear so insignificant to your mind, that you would never even try to recall it further. Something that does not stand out. So boring, that you never question why you can’t recall any details. After all, there are no details to recall. Right? And whether you lose time or gain time will never be apparent to you either- the monotony makes your brain come up with all kinds of excuses. Time perception is subjective, it tells you. “It seemed longer because I was waiting” “It passed by quicker because I was in a hurry”. Of course.

The mind is a feeble thing. Memory is a feeble thing.

Maybe that is why I’ve been venturing outside.

As a traveller, I have encountered similar… phenomena, let’s say, before. Nothing exactly like this, but enough to make me learn to document everything before I leave. Write everything down while I’m still here and can remember. Write everything before it fades into the back of my mind as yet another insignificant waypoint, the way it was intended.

My thoughts are as foggy as the weather.

I have one last reminder for you You can leave only the way you enter: Catch a train. A bit difficult, sometimes, since they often seem to suddenly break down or never appear in the first place. But they will drive.

You can't walk the tracks, I think (though I will admit, I haven't tried) and there's nothing else. Not that I (or anyone) knows of.

I think there may be deterrents in place, something that makes you not want to leave.

You’ve got to catch a train after all.

Which reminds me- it should be here any minute now. I’ve been waiting.

I should really head back into the station. I can’t miss it, after all.

Should’ve been here an hour ago, it feels.