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The clatter of the train rumbling over the tracks and across the countryside. Passing by the corpses of trees and the corpses. Ignoring the whispers and calls of the waves and sea. Passing by things human eyes can’t see. Staring off and pretending not to notice the urge to wander away into that place untraced, and forget the way back. There’s something so soothing about the beckon of the unknown. The only thing you truly know about it is that you don’t. There isn’t even a surface level to perceive. It’s all shrouded in fog. Drawn in and lost evermore.
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