[South]
Train stations are composed of three tones of stain.
The grey stain. Indeterminate liquid. Usually... coffee, cola.
The mustard stain. Vomit. Always.
The brown stain. Congealed blood. Always.
But you must pass through this place twice daily - so you have to rationalize:
The tiles are slippery, they tripped and fell.
The rails are crooked, they must have motion sickness.
But YOU know - YOU know.
[Look]
Once-white tiles, once-blue trims; four promotional posters for this - the sole rail corporation in the state.
As transport staging-areas go - it's certainly not glorious. But you've been here for at least thirty seconds, and your teeth are still intact- so you feel this has been an even-handed review.
A heavily-vandalised ticket machine stands against the wall.
A metal waste bin stands in the corner.
To the south - waist-high ticket gates lead to the platform.
[Look at ticket machine]
Say what you like about the dehumanization of society - you certainly like vending machines.
Coin in for dinner, coin in for conversation, coin in for procreation, coin in for burial.
This isn't the most noble argument for your technocentric philosophy, but it still beats shouting through pockmarked plastic at a station attendant with limited capacities.
Its operation is relatively straightforward. Cash in, ticket out.
[Look at posters]
The posters are reassuring you that - by using their services - you are less likely to endure personal harm, loss of property or major inconvenience than if you had have employed other - nondisclosed - services.
Conversely - the posters inform you that, if you fail to purchase a ticket, put your feet on the seats, fail to stand for an elderly passenger, fail to look away awkwardly when you meet another commuters eyes - you will be punished swiftly, harshly, and disproportionately.
[Look at gates]
Impotent, dead-eyed sentries, operating mainly via two systems of obstruction:
System a) A card in / card out system whereby the gate will verify that you are semi-honest, and allow you to pass through.
System b) A system of cultural and insidious fear, by which the potential user is frightened into believing that one to many omnipotent agencies - including both God and Government, are aware of their every move - and will punish and reward arbitrarily and excessively.
Ironically, both systems are defeated with a simple spring of the ankles.
[Look at bin]
A metal bin. The majority of its intended contents seem to have missed the opening, and are piled around it.
A faint haze is emanating from the bin. Likely a smoldering cigarette.
[Use ticket machine]
You punch in your destination, your age, your weight, your political affiliations, orientation, martial status - and the machine displays a government-mandated price that is deemed fair for an individual from your background.
You are glad you live in a fair and equitable society.
The ticket-machine awaits payment expectantly.
[Use cash on ticket machine]
You enter your requirements, click your tongue at the expected cash amount, and enter coin after coin into the insatiable slot.
A ticket appears.
The system works - In a manner of speaking.
[Look at ticket]
A slip of cardboard - an apparantely-magnetic strip.
Estimated lifespan: Less than a day, in a standard wallet.
[Take ticket]
You take the ticket, snap it in your palm, and feel as if you are part of some brave endeavour.
[Use bin]
You catiously lean over the bin. A brightly-colored tube sits atop a pile of... myriad organic material.
[Look at tube]
It seems to be... a can of spray paint. Red. Bright red.
[Take tube]
You take the can of spray paint, and give it a gentle shake. There are perhaps ten politically-ignorant visual comments left in the bottle.
[Use paint on posters]
You shake the can and draw a red 'X' across each poster.
No commentary required. You disagree. An 'X' should convey that.
Ironically, the paint will likely attract more attention to the posters.
You have just, unwittingly, assisted in the persistence of propaganda.
[Look at posters]
A set of simply-defaced posters. Where once stood passive-aggressive corporate branding, now stands ... Corporate branding struck-through.
[Use paint on posters]
You look at the posters... the red X may be too subtle. You need to give it some context. This work needs more of the creator in it.
You write: 'Nothing good is happening'.
You think that summarises your feelings.
We can leave that one to history now.
[Use paint on posters]
The work belongs to the world now.
If you were to change it now - that would be vandalism.
And that would be bad.
[South]
You'll need to navigate those gates in some manner first.
[Use gate]- changes scene to platform
You put a hand on either side of the gate, and jump the turnstile.
You feel a twinge, but you doubt there is a God.
[Use ticket on gate] - changes scene to platform
You feed the ticket into the gate. It rolls it around, observes the mantle, gentle bouquet - a spicy little number!
The gate opens, you reclaim your ticket.
The affair feels empty without a hollow 'Thankyou, good day'.
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