It’s 08:02 in the station,
the 08:05 train at the far end
A young woman in white jeans bursts past in a full-out, arms-pumping, hair-streaming run to the platform door
She has plenty of time
Across the threshold and on to the platform,
it’s now 08:03
and two young men rush past, as if the train were already in motion and not standing still as death next to them,
wide doors an open invitation
Don’t they know what time it is?
Have they no sense of their own motion through time and space?
But I, too, ran today
Only earlier, and out of sight of these eager youngsters
Surrounded by strangers, a sense of the impending rush eliciting an undignified gallop, pack bouncing into spine, urging forward, ever faster
Everyone runs for the train
What did you see?
#mymorningwalk