“A train thunders by late at night, you gaze idly at the dark rushing mass, you see a patch of light and within that patch of light, a face; in a wink of time it is gone - but, having seen it, you know it will never be gone, you know you will see that face in your dreams perhaps forever. Such is the insubstantial stuff of which fiction - or madness - is made.” LightMadnessTrainFace Book:The Carnival and Other Stories Source: The Carnival and Other Stories
