Closed Stations

Ask any Morrowvalian what they think first and foremost of the local transit authority and they will give you 2 words:

Close Stations.

That’s because the now-closed stations the colorful and illustrious history of NIGHTlinkRailway and the Greater Morrowvale Transit Authority have immortalized so many of their former train stops as part of their local heritage that you can. (No, it really isn’t – Ed.) There’s also the common mythology about how close the stations are along the grid, with at least a dozen the distance of a few blocks and barely allowing the Engineers time to begin accelerating before decelerating to a complete stop into the adjacent station.

A peculiar category of trainspotter exists in Morrowvale; the one who keeps tabs on the ‘Ghost Stations’ of the city’s former underground glory, as they tick little boxes about how much rolling stock each one purportedly still has hidden in its underground troves, but the main mystery about the stations has more to do with what’s not shown; the invisible part of the mystery is the mystery.

Everything in each closed station appears to have been frozen at a point in time indistinguishable from the present age; if you manage to find your way down into one of these abandoned stations ‘the vermin’s way’ as I did before writing this post, you might find yourself face to face with the Pied Piper of Morrowvale, the ghost of Victor Austerity Jones who is said to clatter his way along the vacated portions of the NLRW system at night, looking for uncollected fares and servicing the trains using a litter-picker.