The platform was empty except for her and the clock that hadn’t ticked in years. The train arrived soundlessly, doors sliding open without a conductor in sight. She stepped in, heart racing. The carriage smelled of rain and old paper. Every seat was filled—not with people, but with coats, hats, and shoes, arranged as though their owners had only just vanished.

As the doors closed, she caught her reflection in the window. She was already wearing someone else’s coat.

Signing off…