To look at a city from above changes it irrecoverably, and so it was for the passengers on Train Day. And say what you like, but the windows in the carriages seemed each to show a different city, a different nest of streets. Those in the engine room saw the smoke from the factories and furnaces, and Marielda hissed and smouldered. Those in the rear carriages looked down upon Canopy Row and wondered whether Chrysanthemum Parish had always been so close. Passengers in the dining carriage looked down onto the parks and boulevards and Marielda smiled back in cypress trees and laurel bushes. No windows lit the pala-din's carriage as they waited in the dark, and for them, in that moment, Marielda barely existed at all, as if a dream recounted long ago. There is a word for all of this, my friends, taking many meanings across our wide city, and the word is reconfiguration.
This week on Marielda: The Crosstown Job, Pt. 2
Just for a moment, you felt safe...
Music by Jack de Quidt (@notquitereal)
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