Station

Mr. K stood on the platform, enveloped in a restless crowd. The mechanical female voice repeated over and over again on the loudspeaker: "Train G2985 is temporarily stopped due to an incident. The resumption time is to be determined."

"Due to an incident"—this vague term pressed on his chest like a boulder. He wanted to get up and inquire, but the dense crowd made it impossible for him to move. He tried to get more information from his mobile phone, but the signal was as weak as a candle in the wind.

He looked around, and everyone's face was filled with anxiety and confusion. A middle-aged man wearing glasses paced back and forth, muttering to himself; a young mother held her child, who was crying incessantly; a staff member in uniform was surrounded by a group of people, repeatedly explaining something, his voice hoarse.

Mr. K suddenly felt a wave of dizziness. He didn't know what he was waiting for, nor how much longer he had to wait. Time seemed to have solidified, turning into a viscous, inescapable glue.

He remembered his superior's indifferent face before he set off, and the cold words: "This meeting is very important, you must arrive on time." Now, these words echoed in his mind like a ridiculous curse.

People began to discuss and speculate about the reason for the "incident". Some said it was a line failure, some said someone had jumped onto the tracks, and some even said it was a terrorist attack. Each speculation was like a pebble thrown into Mr. K's already anxious heart, creating ripples.

Time passed by, minute by minute, and the waiting crowd gradually quieted down like a deflated balloon. People sat or stood, or looked down at their mobile phones, or stared blankly into the distance. Mr. K felt like a forgotten chess piece, trapped on a huge, meaningless chessboard.

Suddenly, a commotion broke out in the crowd. Mr. K looked up and saw a few people pointing into the distance, shouting excitedly. He followed the direction of their fingers and vaguely saw a train slowly approaching.

Hope, like a beam of light, shone into Mr. K's heart. He subconsciously straightened his clothes, ready to welcome the arrival of the train.

However, the train did not stop at the platform, but roared past. A sigh of disappointment erupted from the crowd. Mr. K's heart also sank to the bottom.

He felt a deep sense of powerlessness. He didn't know why the train didn't stop, nor how much longer he had to wait. He even began to doubt whether he could really reach his destination.

The broadcast sounded again, still the mechanical female voice: "Train G2985 is temporarily stopped due to an incident. The resumption time is to be determined."

Mr. K closed his eyes and felt a deep sense of exhaustion. He felt as if he was in a huge maze, never finding the exit. He thought of home, of the warm bed, of his wife's gentle gaze.

But these beautiful memories, at this moment, became distant and unattainable. All he could do was wait. In this endless waiting, he felt himself gradually being emptied, becoming a hollow, soulless shell.

The sky in the distance was gloomy, like a huge curtain, covering the whole world. Mr. K felt a chill, he wrapped his coat tightly around him, and continued to wait for the train that would never arrive. He didn't know whether this waiting was a punishment for him or a meaningless joke. He only knew that he had to wait, because besides waiting, he had no other choice. This waiting seemed to be the only proof of his existence, absurd and yet real.