The sky is of an expressionless faith holding no answers
you’re probably hiding behind the clouds
you’re probably a star, take me where you are                                                                                                      

There is that rusty rail road past the gates of hell that some go to replenish their souls. It leads to a bath house far away from the ends of the sky as it skids through a green ocean. Souls wonder around carelessly, waiting for that familiar whistle that could be heard faintly from a distance. It was an escape from reality into the imaginary where everything bloomed of your wishes.

Ji Yong is walking again, kicking the piece of coal that must have fallen out. His steps are light and soundless; perfect and flawless like a model he had been himself. Slowly moving with the gentle breeze he looks out the horizon that was covered with a thick fog. Breathing in the musty smell mixed with engine oil, Ji Yong sighed in contentment.

His pale skin and blonde hair glowed despite the gloomy morning. Ji Yong was a nomad. He had no home. He had sins that could get him to hell, but just enough goodness to get him out. It was ironic but he never minded much. Picking up leftovers from the feast on cloud nine followed with a hot sauna over Hades wasn’t all that bad. But he liked staying close to the station; only because it gave him a belief he could return.

So Ji Yong closes his eyes to hear that clank from the wheels go up and down swiftly as it makes its way against the metal rails. His heart matches the little march he always makes out from the beat and he could already feel the rush of adrenaline within seconds. Each time it gets louder, his body tugs at its direction. Like there is this force that wants him to get on.

As expected, the buzzes of chatter from the souls also reach to his hearing when Ji Yong hears the moving vehicle come to a screeching stop. Opening his eyelids slowly, he lets them pass by as he just stares at the worn down train. Ji Yong’s pupils move carefully from inch to inch as he observes every detail. Its nuts, bolts and chains are all the same but it’s different to him every time.  He notices that the left bolt from the wheel had fallen out.

Still standing before one of the exits to the train, he looks down at the steam coming out. But as it reaches Ji Yong’s leg; he doesn't feel the warm essence it gives off. He never does. Even when he steps closer and tries to touch the rough edges of the wheels, his finger goes through them. Just like every other time he tried it.

As the loud whistle went off and he listened for the engine to start again, he stepped back and let it go. Ji Yong didn’t get on yesterday, he didn't get on today and he won't get on the day after. He just listens and sees – it’s enough as it. Because even though the train is something he really liked, there was never a reason he wanted to ride it. The memories he held on so dearly wasn’t easy to let go.

The train started to move, accelerating with time. The thick smoke trailed behind it like a tail, lingering in the air for a minute before disappearing, and any trace of the vehicle was gone.

The blond stares after it for a while, then decides to sit down. He walks to his bench--yes, his, because no one else ever sits on it--and waits. Just like every other day, he waits for more souls to gather at this small little station.

Soon enough, the souls start to gather. Some are confused--they don't know why they're here or how they got here. Ji Yong pities them. The poor souls wouldn't figure anything out until after the next train comes. But then he remembers that he was once one of them, and tries to sympathize.

His gaze moves from one figure to another. Businessmen, housewives, teenagers, children...mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers. They were all there. He often wonders how they died. He often wonders how he died. But it's been too long, and he can't remember anything but the familiar whistle of the train.

Ji Yong wonders who they were, too. Sometimes it was easy to tell, like the man in bakers clothing. He was still covered in flour. Whatever sins he committed were a mystery to him, but you can never tell what someone's like simply by looking at them.

His gaze shifts again, and Ji Yong spots him. The solider uniform and the various badges displayed across his shirt made it obvious who he was and how he died. Soldiers often came here – after all, they were murderers, in a sense. The man wore a hat and he could see the short black strands sticking out from the back. Ji Yong noticed that he was covered with blood and dirt was smudged all over his face. His dark eyes and sharp jaw were the man's most prominent features.

Soldiers were interesting creatures. They kill for a reason, but not in the same way "real" murderers do.

A familiar "choo-choo" pulls his attention away from the uniform-clad man, breaking his chain of thought. He got up again, wanting to admire the mysterious beauty of the vehicle. The souls around him migrated towards the cars – it seemed like it was the only thing they knew how to do – and one by one, they got on.

He watches them, and somehow, he was in line to get on, too. He couldn't explain the pull he felt.

So he steps in to inhale a peculiar smell of dirt and engine oil. Ji Yong follows the solider and grabs on to the closest pole.The blonde man noticed the other coming closer to him, so he let out a hand and reached for the other. As they intertwined their fingers, Ji Yong wasn’t sure of the fluttery feel his heart gave off. Or the way his stomach flipped backwards. And it was all because of his hand that he felt so many things. Just that warm and soft hand was all it took.

Even if it bury it away
it’s just comes back to me again, facing my fear
my wandering heart is frightened
alone and lonely, lying in a lightless room

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