A man with glasses reading a book. My book cover fingerless gloves. The moon of my thumbnail. This carriage. Its window an O of surprise and through it the carriage in front and then the one in front of that. I am always unnerved by seeing the string of carriages. The way they swing. Their little alien worlds.
A line of people all in a row with laptops open like the mouths of hungry birds. Two men who don't know each other with matching white earphone wires that curl like some growing tendrilled thing. The red and white fire extinguisher sign with its bold arrow that points to two screws on which a fire extinguisher must once have hung. A glorious woman with a turquoise handbag and a red and black skirt. A woman with a very long loose plait of black hair down her back and an old vinyl bag with red and pink ladybirds on it. A bridge over which many white cars are traveling. The inlet, which holds the reflection of a city that isn't there.
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