Monday, 12 September 2011

The Last Train

I'm in a carriage with the kids, on the last train back from the coast. One boy holds a skateboard, his shield of defence. He's on the defensive when the street style kids ask, 'what you doin' on this train?' 'Gotta get home, haven't I.' And he's out at the next station, looking over his back wheel as soon as the doors were shut. The kids, after a day on the arcade stock exchange, are flicking their lighters, and one has singed his hair. I hope this carriage doesn't have a smoke alarm. I really don't want any delays so I miss my connection. In the glass partition I see them shoulder walk, anonymous, caps-on, hoods-up, inflated, and armed with massive bags of pink candy floss. I perfect the art of invisibility………….. as if I needed to.


No comments:

Post a Comment