The train eased into the station on silent tracks and Aidan looked up to watch the doors slide open. A crowd had gathered along the length of the platform, their silent figures bent solemn against the shadows. They made no move to board, but there was no great hurry.

Above them, suspended by twisting metal was a clock with only one hand. Aidan watched it tick slowly round and wondered, certainly not for the first time, when it had come into being. Perhaps it had always been there, and he’d simply neglected to look at it. Or maybe enough people had come through believing that the station should have one, that the clock had barged into existence the same way the train had after the rivers had run dry…

Hi everyone! Here’s a post to let you know the third chapter of Underground is up over on JukePop and you can read it by clicking here! Yay!

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