It was horrendous. Standing room only on the train this evening. Ugh!
Dozens and dozens of people, crammed together like sardines as the carriages lurched their way through the suburbs of South London. My arms ached with the strain of keeping myself still, as the movement of the train threatened to throw me into the lap of a fellow commuter. My legs ached as I strained to keep upright after a full day at work. No seat for me on the way home tonight. Yes, they'd cancelled the train before, overloading the next service that came in. The lack of personal space, of the comfort of seating, of fresh air, of any privacy at all. It's simply the worst part of travelling in the London rush hour. I would rather be anywhere else.
And so, that's what I did.
I shut the rest of the world out. I imagined myself in the middle of a field somewhere, miles from anywhere. I could see the green grass, the trees, a stream off into the distance. A cool breeze gently brushed against my cheek. There was the sight of birds soaring in the sky, of rabbits under the hedgerows. Not another soul for miles around. Certainly, miles away from where I was at the moment...
It helped for a while. And they say there's no place for imagination in today's world.
I wouldn't leave home without mine.
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