I dreamed I was a train conductor in a city of silence

I stood on the platform, not a single soul in sight, just the low hum of tracks beneath my boots. The trains came and went without passengers—just empty carriages filled with old letters and half-finished prayers. I didn’t know why I kept the schedule, but I did, every hour on the dot. When I looked up at the clock, it read 5:07 a.m.—the same time I wake now, before the sun. I think I’ve been running this route for years. Maybe it’s just me trying to keep something alive.