Whitby

Oct 29, 7:30pm

Oct 29, 7:30pm- I am currently on the train to North Yorkshire and I suspect that the journey is almost over. For the past 3 hours I have sat in my own isolated carriage where I have taken in the eerie, October scenery and espied the various advertisements plastered throughout the train. I must admit I did not seem to enjoy my own company, as I am deathly tired and ostensibly anxious. As I gaze out of the blurred, squalid windows I see crowds of haunting trees; stripped of their colour and life by the cruel breath of the approaching winter breeze. The skeletal talons of the old trees block from my view the ghastly moon; as it rises up through the dust and fog. The chilling air pounded on the side of the train throughout my journey; it was only a matter of minutes ago that it crept its way inside. I am dreadfully cold. I shiver and twitch and strive significantly to warm my shoulders with my cape.
My journey has been notably humdrum. The only human interaction which I have experienced on this journey was when I left my carriage to venture to the lavatory, where there I was nefariously scorned by a stout and pompous looking man. I believe I heard him mutter some words of disdain as he walked away. If I am not mistaken, we are now approaching the train station of Whitby and thus I shall continue this journal when I settle in my hotel.