I like train journeys. I like going somewhere slightly exciting or doing something a little bit different. I like sitting with my head against the window and music in my ears watching fields change into cities and cities change into beaches. It is nice to rush past people walking their dogs, or flying kites or playing football and to see something you would otherwise miss whilst sitting staring out of the window at home. I am patient with delays. Up to a point at least, I'm no saint after-all. I can sit on the platform watching freight train passing through and signs hung on chains dancing in the wind. I listen to the echo of the tannoy, the sound of children playing, and the whistle of wind as a train leaves the station. 5 years ago I hated trains. I hated a specific hour long train journey from my home in Shrewsbury to Birmingham where that year I was working. Each morning I caught the same train into work, and usually the same train home again. On a good day I would get a seat by the window facing forwards, the train would leave and arrive on time and would be relatively warm. Even on good days each journey was clouded with tiredness, and with frustration and the sense that my life was slipping away somewhere approaching Wolverhampton. I envied the commuters who lived 20 minutes further along the line. I envied people travelling for fun even more. They stood on the platform at 7.00am bright eyed and excited. I stood there shivering, with permenent bags surrounding my eyes. As the winter turned into summer the days became longer and colour seeped back into my life. I heard "me and the major" for the first time and started to imagine the friendships I could have with my fellow passengers. There was the old time commuter who drank a cup of coffee each morning before falling asleep with his mouth open. The thirty somethings who sat around a table for four, flirting madly whilst boasting about there jobs. There was even a young girl who may or may not have dreamt of horses. I became fond of the familiar faces. Life moves on, as did I. I wonder how many of those people still catch the same train into work. Maybe one day I will get up early one day and stand on the platform bright eyed and excited and steal back everything Wolverhampton ever took from me. Take Care, Rachel _________________________________________________________________ Chat with friends online, try MSN Messenger: http://messenger.msn.com +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister@missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo@missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+