The tracks are laid with fireworks as a robot danced to the glowing fortuitous anger of representation. Inside the station travelers argue with a stuffed bear who has heard one too many farts in his day to change direction. The beams were tangled with lost items and the neighboring furniture spoke of arrival, like a bag of marshmallows dropped around a camp fire.
Having no time to pick up a brochure i made my way up to the front desk and all of it's contents were missing. The robot suggested that i have a cup of coffee and just try and relax. He did not seem like the type i was going to encounter at a chess tournament so i took him up on his offer. Off in the distance a woman was laughing hysterically in a rocking chair with a pile of piano wire dangling a stuffed rabbit.
what time is it and where am i were written on the wall like a gesture of spilled coffee. The sound of the train hurdled forth erratically, without judgment and necessity. It's labor of love pouring through the deep pockets of sunlight like junk mail that had never made it to the counter. it was billowing and there were passengers buying pens from a beautiful girl who did not seem to suffer from blindness.
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