.

sage face

of a little girl

her storybook

Silent carriage. At six in the evening the sun’s rays are nearly horizontal and penetrate the train’s grimy windows with an opaque light. The workers are tired. They stand,or sit, speechless. The noise of the busy world has abated. There is a slightest hint of vibration from the engine which waits to move from out the cavernous halls of the station. Every traveller. One man scribbles dog-eared notes; a woman reads silently from a leather-bound book. Each to their own.

on another line

freight wagons pass endlessly

graffiti’d tidings

.