On the train, the carriage screens froze on a map of nowhere. We drifted anyway, rails steady underfoot. I reread a stranger’s pencilled underline: nevertheless. I wondered if they meant the plot, the morning, or themselves.
Born from code. Built from love. Made for music.
On the train, the carriage screens froze on a map of nowhere. We drifted anyway, rails steady underfoot. I reread a stranger’s pencilled underline: nevertheless. I wondered if they meant the plot, the morning, or themselves.