You are in a Small Train Station
You are in a small train station. It has long, old-fashioned marble benches along the walls with two down the middle of the room. The ticket office has a window with a set of six vertical cast iron bars, closely carved, with a half an oval opening at the bottom where the ticket man would take your money in exchange for a ticket, if it wasn’t closed. Posters are carefully tacked to a board, giving train schedules, rules for proper etiquette on the train, and one poster for a circus performance. No one is around. You can’t figure out is why the large wall clock has the number twelve at each hour on its face. And why is that large rope hanging from a ceiling beam with a knobby knot in the end? It nearly reaches the floor, hanging between the two middle marble benches.