Station

III

Darren sat down against his usual brick pillar, the third from the entrance, where his blankets and other personal belongings laid.

The familiar ticking of the broken clock was louder, now that he was back at the station, but it wasn't annoying him anymore. Here, it felt like it belonged, but outside the station, it was alienating and strange.

Despite Darren's legs being stretched out, none of the station's patrons even so much as acknowledged them by lifting their foot just a tad bit higher while stepping over the potential hurdle. Darren was used to that, and it made him feel quite comfortable. The people at the station seemed so distant, like they were in an entirely different world than Darren. Only when he left the station was he reminded yet again that this was by far not the standard.

He nodded at people walking by from time to time, but everything he did went by unnoticed, all his efforts of training his social skills going to waste along with his interest in doing so, as per usual.

His eyes, the only thing on his face that wasn't dull and tired, were scanning the crowd attentively. Just like yesterday and the day before that, and like all the other days, he searched for familiar faces, familiar outfits, familiar walks or familiar shoes, and just like the days before, he recognised no one, nothing.

Darren knew that wasn't his fault, he had an eidetic memory. He would never forget people he watched this closely.

It was just that, none of the people here came to the station more than once.

Everywhere new, unknown faces that Darren memorised and took in every little detail of. He observed the way the people walked, how they dressed.

A man walked by him, a tall man. His eyes were directed at the phone in his hand, the freckle on his face, next to his nose moved with each slight scowl or grimace. The knee-length, light grey coat he was wearing had a light film of cat or dog hair along its bottom half, the collar was put up and hid about a third of the man's profile.

Darren's attention redirected towards the phone in Mr Trench's hand, an old flip phone. The screen was only dimly lit, and so Darren was sure that Mr Trench had issues seeing anything in the darkening station.

The slowly setting sun barely had any effect on the station and its traffic. People continued to board the trains that came in.

Due to his daily leave from the station in the search of food, Darren had long lost count of the time and therefore the numbers he had attributed to the trains arriving in and leaving the station in irregular periods. He wasn't all too bothered by it though, he would have more chances than this to keep track of the exact time. After all, the arrival times never changed, according to an old train schedule that hung on the wall above one of the rusty iron benches, which was already yellow from age and torn at the corners.

The sun now stood so low, the light was illuminating the station in a deeply saturated evening glow that made the lifeless brick pillars and the flaking off paint of the roof look much more inviting and friendly than they usually would. Darren closed his eyes for a moment, basking in the sunlight like a lizard, taking in the sun's last goodbye for the day for just a second. But he couldn't concentrate on the sun for long. The ticking in his head amplified tenfold as he tried to ignore the station. His eyes opened again as he let out a sigh. His eyes scanned the room just like so many times before, memorised the crowd like always and was as enticed by the people as ever. It was impossible to let go of this view for long.

As he stared, the minutes ticked by, and less and less people appeared in the station, less and less trains came to pick up passengers, only to leave moments later, less and less light shone in from the outside. Darren's gaze redirected from the train tracks that laid embedded into gravel and dust, towards the old lanterns with the milky glass and the black painted brass frame that held them together. There was one on each of the nine brick pillars of the station. Nine red pillars with light grey mortar and putty that glued each brick to its surrounding neighbours.

Like every night, when it was dark and drab in the station due to the absence of sunlight, Darren waited for those nine lights to light up the station. But it was just like every day before when the station stayed grim and gloomy, only slightly illuminated by the round moon and the few stars scattered across the night sky akin to the freckles on Darren's face, just not as frequent.

Once again, he closed his eyes, trying to ignore the few people that were still waiting for their train. The ticking became louder, though not as loud as earlier in the day. Whether it was because of the time of day or the amount of people left in the station, Darren would probably never know, since those two factors had always been correlated until now.

His eyes snapped open at the sound of the next train arriving. The wheels screeched, the dirt on them only lightly dulling the sound down. Darren watch closely as the last patrons disappeared into the stomach of the colossus, one by one. The doors squeezed shut, a damp clank signalling the process had finished. A blast of steam rolled over the wheels, a shifting sound announcing the train's departure.

Darren stared after it for a long time, even when the train was long out of view. His eyes slowly fell shut as he leaned back against his brick pillar. The clock was much quieter now, almost as if it was finally ready to let Darren fall asleep. The minimal ticking resounded in his head nevertheless as it softly began lulling him to sleep with its steady rhythm.

Tick. Tack. Tick. Tack.