I really enjoy empty space, and empty places. The older I get the more I enjoy having space to breathe, however that doesn’t mean I dislike busy places. I just need to get a ‘space’ fix regularly, whether that is in my new favourite place my own back garden or whilst on a walk in the open air.
As long as I have the time to do the quiet time, I can enjoy to the full the hustle and bustle of city life. One of my most favourite busy places is a train station. I thrive on the energy, watching the crowds migrating from one platform to another. A brilliant place for a writer to sit is on a platform, or in the tea shop near the entrance. You see so many characters, hugging, crying, and laughing.
The couple kissing, are they lovers parting for ever or are they merely setting off on a daily commute. Did they fight over the toothpaste tube this morning, is the guilt too much to bear all day whilst sitting in front of their desk bound computer screen? Are they finally accepting that their ‘official’ other halves are more important and they must call off the short but passionate affair? Have they just spent their first night of passion together and now need to get back to the world, even if temporarily? You can’t tell from the body language that is why it’s so inspiring, you can make it all up. I sit with my often surprisingly good coffee, sometimes a pastry too, and imagine what they are texting on their modern day obligatory smart phone, talking of which when did it morph from a mobile to a smart, it often gets called a ‘device’ now too which does have a sinister ring to it doesn’t it. Just to clarify I don’t mean that the ring tone is set to The Omen theme music, it’s just by calling it a device seems to give it a dark edge, can it hear us, can it track us, can it inform us and inform on us? Well I guess with GPS etc it probably can so sinister device it is then.
Oh well, I digress. Back to the platform, I love England and its eccentrics and you often see them here. The drag queen in heels that defy gravity and make even the most conscientious fashionista struggle to stay upright; the bald gent with a very desperate comb over struggling to appear more hirsute but by his actions seem less so. I then spot the young lady with perma-tan and high definition brows no doubt on her way to pursue the footballer of her dreams; the mature woman with an immaculate fifties retro look, perfect seamed stockings and a neatly tailored suit strutting through tottering on dagger sharp stilettos. All that in ten minutes so go on sit and spend a few minutes next time you are on a journey, it could be what you need to find a new main character for your next best seller.