picosgemeos: (Montanhas)

Image by Frank Michin

It’s a long flight of steps up to Camden Road’s platform. When you see people coming down, you know you’ll miss the train.

I never run for it. But yesterday, by some strange delay, it waited wide open for passengers. As we hopped inside, a hurried woman turned around and shouted: ‘There’s plenty of space, wanker!’

She probably expected the doors to then close, but they didn’t.

The platform guy strode into the carriage.

‘I said there was plenty of space down there,’ he shouted back. ‘Mind your manners.’

In typical English fashion, we looked away, suddenly distracted by others.
picosgemeos: (Montanhas)

The Overground train heads into West London, gathering surly commuters along the way. I spot a white tent alongside a busy highway, hidden amongst brambles and trees. Whoever sleeps there has to contend with England's soggy winter ground.

The sun shines through our carriage, casting our shadows against the embankments.

I get off at Camden Road and walk down the high street towards work. By a stoplight, a garbage truck goes by. I imagine a child in my arms, and when the both of us wave goodbye at the truck the two men inside smile and their day is changed.
picosgemeos: (Montanhas)

I am about to step off the Overground train on Peckham Rye station when an impatient young woman in a red checkered shirt rudely slides ahead of me.

I pull out my umbrella as we walk down the platform. I step up my pace and overtake her.

A line trundles down the wet steps. She runs past us and pulls out her mobile phone to check something. Oh, no you don’t. I see a break on the stairs from people coming up and make a dash.

Ahead again, I smack into a guy’s coffee and get it down my arm.


picosgemeos: (Default)

September 2017

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