The Concept of Time

The station. The changing place. That land of in between. Where we come to switch and trade

and wait.

Wandering listlessly through a world where time is felt far more intensely than it ever should and we, the enemies of time, are pressed against the clock-face and made

to wait.

Each passing second another reminder of our unavoidable torment. Passing through like cattle, herded by patronizing voices heard through jarring wires, violating our decided loneliness, shattering our insides. Repeating until we can stand no more, ceasing a moment only to allow the next Shepard to remind us of their own incompetence. All the while splitting the skulls of the damned that are made

to wait.