Pisces

Saturday, 1 August 2026

On the overnight train, you hang a paper destination card beside your berth. Then an announcement says the route will change because of work on the tracks. The unfamiliar station names pass too quickly for you to understand which comes before yours. Other passengers close their curtains while sleep keeps its distance from you.

The conductor comes through and draws the altered line across your card in blue ink. He circles a station that was never part of your journey and says the train will wait there for twenty minutes at dawn. Once the route is visible, the change stops being a vague space. It becomes a bend with a beginning and an end.

You wake shortly before the unplanned stop. Through the glass, a quiet city is washing its streets, and a bakery turns on its first light. You will not step down or learn the neighborhood's name, but you will cross it awake. The altered route takes one small certainty and gives you a morning that was never included in the booking.