Throughout the station the sound of the noon chime rang and echoed off the walls; the sound of the station master's heels echoed each ring as he walked his round before lunch. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Billingsley--off to Brighton Beach this afternoon?""Why yes, Station Master," the plump woman quipped; no one knew the station master's name but he took no offense. "My daughter is meeting me and we'll be there all day.""Hope you have a wrap to go over your swimming costume; it's said to be chilly at the shore today," he called over his shoulder as he checked the time. The train was coming soon.The train was always coming soon, but never arrived. Yet the station master continued his rounds, greeting each of the waiting passengers, the waitstaff in the cafe, and the maids; it was always noon or nearly noon at the station, and always would be.
Well, it only stands to reason that an abandoned train station would have an abandoned train station master...click on the photo to visit the Scribe's Cave and add your thoughts.