Small Things

Small things

You walked through the door and saw a street filled with cars, all the colours of the rainbows shining under the crisp morning light. Picking your way down the street you notice the small things. The silence, all the colourful beasts tucked up by curbs as the rest of the world sleeps on. The dew clinging to blades of grass that sheds onto your shoes making them slick and shiny. You pull your jacket closer and glance at your watch. Time slowly ticks by as you make you way through the streets. Shops are darkened the windows watching as you hurry past. Empty coke cans and old newspapers lurk round corners waiting to ambush you. Another glance at your watch, time silently sliding away beneath your scrabbling finger tips. Every second lost can never be reclaimed. You arrive at your destination. An empty desolate platform and sit upon the cold, hard metal bench. You feel it draw the heat out of you and soon you are shivering. A faint rumble draws your attentions to the approaching train and a bemused looking driver watching you as he passes. The doors open and you step into the envelope of heat concealed within. Even though the carriage is empty you still take the secluded, cramped two seater and place your bag on the chair between you and the aisle. A barrier, a wall to hide behind.