The way friendships sometimes are...

Another train passes... Its steel voice echoes briefly across the platform... Then fades into the distance... Another departure... Another arrival... Another day without rain... And still... The bicycle remains... Leaning beside the old station as it has for years... perhaps decades... surrendered to rust... surrendered to time... Time is a patient collector... It asks for very little each day... A fragment of paint... A spoke... A chain... Until eventually there is nothing left to take... The station itself seems to understand this arrangement... The wooden benches grow older... The signs fade... The walls surrender their colors to memory... Yet the bicycle remains... Waiting... Loyal... For it's old friend... We often speak of abandoned places... Rarely of abandoned things... I wonder about its owner... Did he or she board a train one morning believing would soon return...? Did some distant city offer a new life... a new name... a new purpose...? Or was the bicycle forgotten gradually... The way friendships sometimes are... Not through cruelty... But through absence... One missed day... Then another... And another... Until memory itself grows tired... Another train passes... The platform trembles... The bicycle does not move... Its rusted frame watches the carriages disappear beyond the horizon... Faithful... Patient... Still awaiting the familiar hand that once guided it home... Though somewhere deep within the silence... I suspect it already knows... Some journeys... Do not return...

Chain

TEZOS

Network

Tezos

Contract

KT1EFG93HY1HzgpsXnhgZQqT8gJue4C2wah3

Token ID

11