Late

Something I wrote a long time ago about a past experience. May be triggering for abuse.

The Breaded Blog

It must be late summer because it’s early evening but the sky hasn’t caught up with the clock. It is not light and not dark, only faded and a bit dull.

 

It must be the weekend because the buses are slightly less frequent and some of the shops are shutting. Sunday? Yes, it must be Sunday because the pharmacy at Stratford was closed. It must be ages and ages ago because she slotted a twenty and a ten pence piece into a BT phone-box instead of texting her lateness home.

 

It must be one of the many weeks of work on the District Line, or someone must have jumped into the tracks ahead. After blagging her way past Zone 2 barriers with a 3-6 Travelcard, the girl is looking anxiously at the display board. 15 minutes for the next Barking bound train. She has just found out what…

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