There is a curious fact about the tiny railway station mentioned by the teller of this story that he would never know: Almost sixty years before the events he describes, the station was partially demolished in the night by someone or something unknown, and had to be rebuilt from the ground up. Unknown, yes, but there were indeed whispers--from the older folk mostly, people long dead by the time the weary and hungry narrator appeared in the mountains utterly by chance.

MUSIC: 'Forests' by Narvik; 'Vodohrai' by Smerichka; all rights reserved.

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