About Souls

underground tunnels deliver people to their perspective-desired locations maybe not so much desired, as necessary the morning commute feels like a bustle of anonymity most are in moving in a distortion of haste all are in their own heads, focusing forward, unfeeling to the surrounding world goal and schedule oriented people; they hurry on their way unspeaking, only silently maneuvering among each other in a place with so many souls moving through, the silence is oddly both horrifying and calming only the sounds of shuffled footsteps muffle through the crisp air the smell of hot engines and oil fill it the senses underwhelmed and the people nameless and faceless, souls exist inside them all still.

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