Chapter Text
Nota bene: Scrapped.
When the last trembling footstep has echoed upward into the city, and followed all its neighbors and ancestors into the pandemonium of vitality stretching for miles into the sky, you are struck across the face and hands with shaking whisper the silence. Within a subway station there are two components: the noise, that which invades with squealing drums and wheels and hammers into both the tracks and your skull, and the sights, those which catch altogether too many of your eyes, and bring them to rove along some most inconsequential details. This I noticed with profundity the hour after the McKees’, in a completely empty and unvivid tunnel full of machina, each husk devoid of the quiet beeping ordinarily marking their alertness, like soldiers awaiting and anticipating a piercing of the stillness by shrieking cries of trains. These were unmumbling carcasses, and sat quietly for the most part. All but one weak, fluttering sound contributed in the labour of quiet. I make particular note of its presence, because I was there, after all, and not for no good reason. And if you strained to the capacity of your abilities, you would realize that there was in fact a lonely light, warning the foolish to stay abreast of the death beyond the platform. It emitted tiny gasps of the sort commonplace to a dying animal. Alongside a marked increase in its freneticity I boarded the four o'clock.