In the first rays of the sun, whatever darkness it dispels, saw a range of trees, a forest aflame. (Flame of the forest is a kind tree that blooms red flower). This bitter cold morning brings me to
Thick granite structures, erstwhile repair yards and gang rooms, flank both our sides. Ruins mostly, but caused not just by elements and Time but the human hand and the ceaseless machinations of his mind.
The first few steps seem to have taken me into a century or two pasts- when the Army in
The pillars that supported the roofs were thicker than the average railway toilet and cleaner. The exit was a choke point as if they expected to defend it again the hordes with one man. In a way they try to, with the ticket collector.
