You are in the Metro. The trains come here, they tell you. You will see them. The trains are real.
In each station there is one person walking with an excruciating slowness. This person is always directly in front of you at all times. He never turns his back. He is apparently able-bodied and there is no reason for him to move like a sloth made of molasses. And yet. Maybe he has no face. You have never seen his face.
Another announcement. The next train will be late because it is full of ghosts. Ghosts are not real. Neither is the train. Two truths and a lie, the announcer says.
A work crew is approaching the tunnel. One is sobbing loudly. Everyone else on the work crew is stony-faced. Their faces are too pale and their eyes are wrong, somehow. Their eyes are like insects’ eyes. The work crew goes into the tunnel and it never comes back out.
The voice of the announcer screams continuously for six minutes. There are no trains. You are still here. […]