My train hits the enveloping darkness of the tunnel at 40 miles an hour. The transition from overcast afternoon to Hadean darkness is almost instant.
On the wall, above eye level, is a conduit and 6 cables. Their purpose is unknown, but this only fuels the image in my head.
If you were to walk the tunnel, I doubt that they would merit a second glance, unless it was your job to look at such things.
However, at 40 miles an hour, thay are transformed.

Watching them I see:
Taffy being folded by a machine in Newport on the Oregon coast.
A skipping sliding, vibrating narative on the flow of information in our modern age.
The wave of sound from a studio monitor recording the susurrus of public conversations.

Suffice to say, my mind goes places when I let it run free...
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