The Platform of Forgotten Mornings

This image is a love letter to mornings that never made it into the diary. The man on the bench—hat tilted, coat buttoned—isn’t waiting for a train. He’s waiting for a feeling. The station, with its ornate awning and wooden bones, stands like a relic of emotional architecture: built to shelter moments, not movement.

The prompt asked for serenity, and this piece answered with sepia silence. The overgrown tracks, the trees leaning in like old friends, the soft blur at the edges—all conspire to create a scene that feels like it was found in the bottom drawer of someone’s memory. It’s not dramatic. It’s not loud. But it’s honest.