This blog is eight years old today, but the following note predates it. I found this text among several forgotten vignettes in a dusty corner of the hard drive.
A woman got on the train at Gatwick, although not particularly burdened with luggage as so many air travellers are at that station. I was wearing dark glasses as I was trying to sleep. She clattered through the door between carriages, the sound woke me from a doze. She spoke as she clattered through – “Is this the train for Brighton?” At first her words were directed at the woman closest to her, but immediately she noticed that passenger had a walkman and was not ready to receive the question, which was deflected, by the enquirer’s glance in flight, to me. By the time she had reached the question mark, I had flicked the shades up from my eyes, and genuine face-to-face interaction took place, so that I was able to reassure her.
The woman sat down and to my delight, shortly after the train moved on, took out a portable typewriter, opened it up, and hammered a few keys to the rhythm of the train.
June 2002
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