Marsden. Dead platform on your left. Alight here for the past, mind the gap. The goods yard metals thwarted by birch trees, the impermanent way ends in the car park.
Over the cut and into the tunnel. Vinyl advertisements taunt the souls of navigators, an abyss of 3 miles and 60 yards into Lancashire. Electrification is on the agenda.
The express gets a lick on. Two seas to gather and no time to wait. The shutter turns the timetable to Ogham.
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