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“Here’s the place,” she said, and then loitered by the door, impatient for us to get out. The apartment was a little grimy: she hadn’t cleaned up after the previous tenants, but it was nothing objectionable. I only had one question.

“What’s that door in the hallway?”

--Written by Alexander Saxton and performed by Breanna Maloney.

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“I guess I always wanted to be a farmer.” I expected laughter, but instead the silence plunged deeper.

“No,” said the farmer. “You don’t. The vermin, the too-small harvest, the too-big loneliness, up before dawn, asleep after dark. The forces of nature and God bending you to their will. Breaking you. And of course, this part of the country is prone to The Early Frost.”

--Written by Jacob Duarte Spiel.

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“Sorry, Hannah,” he said. “I forgot you liked horses so much, and didn’t want to hear about them getting lit on fire until their bones showed through. Just be careful, you know? And watch out down by the tracks, too. You know, after what happened to that chick over in Chase. After the accident.”

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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They arrived at the crime scene, a gorgeous space: plasterwork ceilings illuminated by broad sash windows. A floor of unsurpassed versailles parquetry was disfigured only by the pool of dried blood.

“I do wish the police would allow us to clean that up,” said the Duke.

“It is distasteful, ouais,” said Belanger. “But distasteful things are useful in this line of work.”

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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A pair of guards bowed low on the other side, and though their weapons were sheathed, he felt a spike of alarm, and nearly struck them with his sword, for both men were deformed, and hideous in his sight.

But though their appearance repulsed him, they spoke elegant Spanish, and welcomed him most courteously.

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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The Badalisc is an Epiphany-time tradition, a creature that visits towns and gives a comedic speech where it talks about the town gossip and reveals people’s secrets. There’s singing, dancing, eating, and at the end of it the creature wanders back into the woods.

At least, that’s what I was told it would be like.

--Written by Anthony Botelho.

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“That… play,” I said. “What did it represent?”

He frowned at me and tilted his head. I repeated the question, but it seemed he’d understood my words, but not their meaning.

“Represent?” he said. “Nay. It represent nowt. Tis just only the Auld Tup.”

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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At four in the morning, I awoke writhing in pain. It was a hunger like nothing I’d felt up to that point. Like a force of nature. A vacuum needing to be filled.

I tried in vain to sleep, to turn my thoughts away from eating and onto anything else, the blue rose, my future plans, my investment portfolio, literally anything. But it was no use.

--Written by Jacob Duarte Spiel and performed by Melissa Taylor.

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“Your son must be initiated,” said the shaman, Shiao-Duun. “For his sake and yours. You are all too young to remember the hard times, the cold times. But Shiao-Duun is not too young. And I tell you, such times will come again. The tribe will need its sons. The initiation must come.”

--Written by Alexander Saxton.

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The Wrong Station contains explicit content and mature themes. Episode-specific warnings can be found at www.wrongstation.com/c-w.

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