There once was a train.
It had no tracks, no stations, not even a whistle to shout “departure!”
But it had one thing – a heart.

One day, it woke up at the bottom of the ocean, surrounded by a silence no one understood.
Instead of passengers – fish.
Instead of direction – intuition.
But it kept moving.

Because within its carriages were souls.
People who didn’t need stations to know they were home.

Each one carried a story the world refused to read –
because it wasn’t clear, wasn’t “on the surface”.
But underwater… everything was different.
Lighter.
More real.
Where logic failed, magic began.

The train had no destination.
But it had meaning.

It was a sanctuary.
A moving dream.
A space for those who didn’t fit on any map.

And even though no one above could see its lights –
they shone.
And they guided.

And maybe…
just maybe…
you were the train all along.