I dreamed I was a train conductor with no train

I stood on a platform that wasn't there, holding a timetable made of smoke. The tracks stretched into fog, but the engine never came. People kept arriving—quiet, expectant—and I had to tell them there was no departure. Not because it was broken, but because the schedule had forgotten itself. I kept apologizing in a language I didn’t know. When I woke up, my hands were still gripping an imaginary ticket.