The Enigma Behind the Whistle's Reverberation
You wake up alone on the train, and outside, the trees drift by slowly.
You sit in the front row by the window, facing forward. When you turn around, all the seats stretching to the door are empty, and dim lights flicker in the absent eyes of those who aren't there. Inside the train, it's pitch black, and hours have passed without seeing a conductor. The only source of light comes from a perfect full moon in the clear, cloudless sky.
