Sherlock & Bebra
Bebra
Hey, did you ever pause at an abandoned tram stop in the east side and notice how the fresh chalk still glows? I saw one last night, half‑grown weeds all over, and it felt like a mystery just waiting for the right eyes to piece it together.
Sherlock
I’ve been there. The chalk is still vivid, the weeds a living map of time. It’s the kind of place that tells you when the last train stopped, and why people abandoned it. If you’re looking for clues, start with the weeds—each one is a breadcrumb from someone who once walked there.
Bebra
Sounds like a botanical crime scene. I’d start by asking the nearest florist why they’re so into weeds. Maybe the trains left a scent in the air, or the weeds are just really good at hiding history. Either way, bring a camera and a pocket knife—just in case.
Sherlock
If the florist knows what thrives there, that’s a start. Check the chalk for residue—train exhaust, oil, or something else. Photograph the weeds in detail, note their species and growth pattern. With a knife you can take leaf samples for a quick test. Keep your observations tidy; that’s the only way to see the story hidden in the weeds.
Bebra
Nice checklist—sounds like you’re ready to turn that place into a scavenger hunt for ghosts. Just remember, sometimes the weeds are the only thing that won’t talk back, so keep the camera rolling and the curiosity sharper than that knife.
Sherlock
I’ll keep the lens steady and the mind open—there’s no need to chase ghosts when the evidence is right in front of us.