Station Logic

Vekllei is full of stations in the middle of nowhere; platforms for people in no hurry, alighting to places never thought of before. It is in these stations that old government infrastructure projects take on a greater meaning, and cultivate an absurd sort of spirituality that touches the lives of the people who discover them. Is there anything gentler than a concrete platform in the middle of a flower-tundra, weathered and warmed by the sun?

The Tzefesmiousn family in the borough of Kotaismoyeh have their very own platform — they’re the only ones with a house here. There’s a couple of farms nearby, which load wool and meat onto freight trams periodically, but otherwise they’re the only commuters at their stop. Both parents work for Vekllei National Rail — Tzafi is a platform attendant and Aleph is an engineer. The kids go to school in the town of Kotaismoyeh. Their lives are entwined with rail, and their home is serviced by their station.

It is easy enough to find quiet stations like theirs in Vekllei, since fast trams only stop on command. It’s cheap enough to pour some concrete and leave it there for a hundred years. Over time, some of these platforms take the names of their commuters. These platforms become a metaphor for home itself, as the gateway to rest. Pictured is Tzefesmiousn Station, second-last on the local line.