It’s almost midnight and the former railway station is overcrowded. Not with travellers as it used to be a long time ago.
Nowadays the trend location hostesses night flea and design markets and it’s visited by young people moving at the beats of groove music.
The popular rhythmic patterns set the visitors in dancing motion.
Concurrently the old walls of the building chant lyrics with the whole strengths of their tired voices.
Groovy notes together with swinging texts.
Or should I say: dynamic rhythms against vibrating words?
Do the guests feel the spirit of the historical building vibrate as they feel the swing of the music?
The way the needle follows the track of the groove on an old record resembles the way the ancient construction follows the course of history.
Do you hear the desperate voices trying to drown out the dj’s drummer sounds?
Singing sad stories about men leaving their families behind and going away striving for better jobs.
Joyous stories about the arrival of a long time not seen sons.
The humid bricks claim to be listened without a chance of even being noticed.
Rooms filled to the brim with history. Shouting to be heard. Wanting desperately to hand down all they have experienced before one day being demolished.
The aged edification requesting us frantically to get into the groove and enter the spirit of timeline.