Mist Between Departures

This piece is the quietest of the quartet—and perhaps the most emotionally ambiguous. The figure on the bench, coat draped and handbag beside them, isn’t waiting for a train. They’re waiting for the mist to decide. The station, with its wooden siding and sloped roof, feels like a place where stories pause rather than begin.

The prompt called for calm, and this image responded with diffusion. The light is soft, the trees fade into fog, and the wildflowers between the tracks suggest that nature has begun to overwrite the timetable. There’s no urgency here—only the gentle erosion of plans. The sepia tone adds warmth, but it’s the mist that carries the emotional weight: a veil between memory and movement.