Metal conversations
Our carriage on the train was full of children on their way to school - it was that time of the morning - the aisle and seats were randomly splashed with brown-red, dark blue, burgundy or garish green uniforms and enormous bags. Lost amongst the students was a segment of the working population, most of whom were dressed in more conservative colours.
All of them talked. Last night's dinner, last night's episode of whatever, who's she going out with this week, why the hell is he running this project like that.
A metal box on metal wheels, running on metal tracks hurtling at metal speed, transporting idle conversation.
The sky beyond the windows was an eternal, serene grey. For some reason, it occurred to me how lonely it was that all this noise was confined only here, and out there somewhere was a silent world.