It’s one of those nights.

It’s past midnight, and I’m sitting on a train, watching the city slip by in flickering lights and blurred reflections.

I let my mind wander.

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What does a train have to do with life?

I imagine a train—not just any train, but one that moves in a perfect loop. A train with no first station, no final destination. It just keeps circling the city, endlessly. You step on somewhere—anywhere—but the exact point doesn’t really matter.