Where are you?
From what I've gathered, this place has a couple of different names. Most of us call it the Under Station, because it is a train station, far as we can see, and there's this cave-like quality that makes some of us believe we're underground. The group a few platforms over calls it the Great Ending, at least that's the literal translation that they gave me, but I don't particularly like that one. The Underneath, the Last Stop, the Between, an "unknown liminal space that probably originates from our psyche" (that's the psychoanalyst for you), I haven't had time to poll everyone but that's the handful. As for where we are, I get mixed answers on that, too. A few stops past the last stop, second start to the left, if Uptown curled back into downtown, straight through to the edge of the world. Honestly, I don't know.
How long have you been there?
It's hard to understand if time flows differently because of some actual distortion of the regular space-time-continuum, or if it's because I don't have regular working hours. So, my best guess is a couple of weeks?
Where are you from?
I'm not really sure how to explain it in a way that has meaning to you. For all I know, you're from a planet three worlds away in an alternate universe. Or you're from the future and my world doesn't even exist anymore. But I was from Chicago, which is a pretty big city in the US, which is a country on the planet Earth. It was in the 2020s when I left. But considering the fact that I've met, you know, talking mice and a fish guy and an old woman who can make sparks fly out of her fingers, I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that the known world is a bit bigger than I previously knew.
How did you wind up in the Under Station?
Hey, if I knew, then I'd also hopefully know more about how to leave. I took the train one day, after a long, bad day. I dozed off at one point. And here I am.
What are you doing to get out of there?
Look, I'm doing my best. There aren't a whole lot of search results for "how to get out of mystical train station" but I've been asking the residents. Well, some folks consider themselves residents. Others tell me that they're just passing through and are waiting for their train home. It's unclear to me how to tell if it's a train home or if it'll take me to the world of fish guy, but they tell me that I'll know when I see the right one. There's one guy, Francis, who tells me that this is part of an inner journey and I have to complete the seven steps to enlightenment to earn my way back home, but Cindy says that's a crock of nonsense.
Why did you start this website?
Maybe this will reach someone, anyone. Maybe you're also trapped in an interdimensional waystation and you're trying to figure out where you are. Until I find that way home, I'm going to make the best of it, and that means trying to reach other people. Also I always wanted to try my hand at making a website and it seems that I have a lot of time on my hand nowadays.
How do you have internet?
Look, your guess is as good as mine. There's some sort of thread that binds this place to the rest, so it's not just internet that we get sometimes. Someone has a radio and it picks up various stations from different worlds (it's how I learned that I actually deeply love mouse jazz, I hope wherever you are that you're one of the lucky ones who has mouse jazz in your universe).
How do you survive?
This place is almost like a full city at this point. Some of us have banded together to help cultivate what we need. It's a bit damp and dark so we're on a mostly mushroom diet, to be honest, but we also semi-regularly get trains still loaded up with freight delivery. Some of them are useless, like this one that was just packed with televisions from the 1980s, the staticky ones, though we've hooked them up to almost be like streetlamps in some of the places that has an electrical current. Not much cable down here. Anyways, the point is that eventually it seems like everything makes its way down here.
What's your favorite color?
Green, any shade. One of the inhabitants (residents? travelers?) grows a moss farm and it's got them all, dark olives and limey yellow greens and rich loamy greens and even a seafoam that has been a bit touch or go there.