On the last evening of the holiday, Lena and Olek walked back under the station. It had been standing here for years, empty, with the clock stopped at 7:07 p.m. Grandma said that this is where the old tracks ended. Lena laughed, but she had a map and a small torch in her pocket. In the morning someone slipped a strange ticket into her box. On the paper was silvery writing: Last fare, today, 7:07 p.m. The time was exactly the same as on the clock. Olek whistled and said: "Probably a stupid joke, Lena." However, they both came here at dusk, cautiously, without their parents. The air smelled of rust and wet wood after the rain. The wind moved the blackboard, which still whispered the names of former stops. Lena shone her torch at the platform, the crackling sound bouncing off the roof. Suddenly, an old loudspeaker crackled above the door to the waiting room. A dry, broken sound crawled out of the black grille. Then everyone heard a whisper, even though there were only two of them here. A voice said very quietly: "Lena... ticket please." Olek stepped back and hid his hands in his sweatshirt pockets. Lena clenched the ticket and raised the torch a little higher. The clock above the platform vibrated and moved the hand back a minute. The lantern by the gate flashed as if someone had winked at them from above. In the tunnel on the left, a narrow yellow strip of light lit up. There was no electricity there, that they knew for sure. "Do you hear the whistle?" asked Olek, stopping just inside the ticket office. From inside the booth it knocked three times, in a completely even rhythm. The key in the waiting room door turned on its own, once and then a second time. Lena swallowed her saliva and brought the ticket closer to the dark slot. A white-gloved hand flashed behind the glass, or just a reflection. And then a short train signal sounded in the distance.