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  • There was a thundering, rattling noise coming from the west as I approached the tracks. The lights started flashing red and single barricade lowered right behind me. I stopped a couple feet from the tracks and waited. The clouds hung low enveloping the world in a unshakable stillness. The cities had all lost their lights; it was amazing these ones still flashed at all. Bright and red. It had long stopped snowing. Everything was still and quiet

    Except for the thundering clatter approaching from the west.

    It burst out of no where. Dark grey steel moving at top speed. From my perch a couple feet away I closed my eyes and felt the heat from the friction of wheels against the tracks mingled with the cold wind as it cut through the air like a spear.

    A symphony started to play.

    The clacking of the rods turning with the wheels around and around met the release of air from hidden valves. They teased each other like an upright and a cello going back and forth building a foundation for the orchestra to stand. The ticking of the chains between each carriage was the sweet trills of the violins swelling and tapering in time. The whistling wind, the sad melody of a time before all of this. When people played, laughed, danced. Lived.

    And like that, the 1001 carriage rushed past.
    The music ceased as if a needle was taken off the record too early. The train rushed to the east as Helios soared across the sky pulling the clouds away to reveal a dull blue sky. I looked around at the silent world, covered in snow. Unmoving. Unchanged. The same world I had grown to know.

    I gripped my backpack and looked to the east. I would be another year until I was able to hear the music again.

    How long until I forgot to listen?
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