The december mist and the moon peaking high over the iron fence dulled the low volt into weird halo.
But like bats I reap the rewards of night.
The buzz of the crickets rose in crescendo from the undergrowths around the track sounding as unreal as the silent platform abruptly cropping up on nowhere land doubtful if ever a train would notice it.
Days are dull actings dancing to strings yielding nothing to let you know you. I'm in full vision before the lightless mirror opening up alone but with the many faces the dreary day ruthlessly hid from me.
The mist was engulfing the iron railings and when a distant engine whistled there was no track or platform but only the lone flyer hung on the moon like a bat glued to the scent of night.
I only ever wanted to sleep for a thousand years tonight - To awaken bathed in the cool, blue light of the future with its promised obsolescence. I will embrace this since the warm, yellow light of the past has done nothing but tell me lies.