Only zombies roam around the forgotten stations, remainings of a long gone time, when energy was cheap. Air shimmers, heavily loaded with gas. Sad beings, which live in past. Present comes with a huge explosion.
A last cigarette
For all forgotten stations,
I can smell the gas… (jf)
“Forgotten Stations” by Mietzekatze3847
Picture by Mietzekatze3847, poetry by Jonathan.
klangkopf 