“Unlocking the Secrets of ‘Streams’: Marcos Reyna’s Journey Through Time and Memory”
Engines idle at a station while crowds embrace passengers. The platform brims and churns. Everybody moves through each other. They weave in a dance of holding on and letting go. Lovers, family, friends, and the passengers with their suitcases. They swirl like pilgrims at a shrine. But I can never tell who’s coming or going. Every embrace looks the same, the arrival just like the departure, the first like the last. And maybe direction doesn’t matter. Maybe all that matters is embrace. The machine whirs, the platform swirls.
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