This is the second of my writings today, and I hope that it isn’t unimportantised [L’s Oxford Dictionary] by the first one. This is about a journey I took yesterday, which I hope when written will be amusing, but when it was me yesterday, was highly stressful.
So, I was headed down to Winchester yesterday, to meet up with some friends. The journey down [which started at 06:30, with a 05:30 wake up] went like this:
First train: someone pulled the emergency break, resulting in a delayed train. They pulled it for no valid reason – thanks peeps!
Train 2: It was late. It got later. It got later whilst I was on it. It arrived late. It left late. It made me late.
Third train: It was on time. Yes, I’m in Britain, I got on a train and it was on time! This calls for a moment of silence please.
It arrived late.
Train 1: Cancelled.
Arrives late, resulting in a 7 minute sprint around Clapham Junction, with no assistance [the whole I’m-blind thing, remember?]
I MADE THAT TRAIN AS THE DOORS BEEPED TO CLOSE. And my only thought? Crap, is this the right train? Because there’s a train before mine [like, 2 or 3 minutes] on the same platform going to, somewhere like London. I mean, the wrong bit of London. so yeah… It was the right train, but there was a creepy man behind me who told me to ‘chill out’ in a pervy voice. I wonder if he was talking to me or if he was on the phone. Trust me, when a creepy dude tells you to chill out, it’s literally the only thing under the sun that you can’t do. ‘chill out’… shit, my heart is going and I’m terrified and maybe he’ll just stab me and get it over with but maybe he’ll pull me off of the train and take me to a dodgy block of flats in East London [that’s where all the muder books are set] and kill me slowly, or worse…
I arrived. I was late. That was the end of my story.
Good/ No? Tell me in the comments… I literally relived that fear I felt yesterday whilst writing this; appreciate it! My pain went into this story. I wish it to cause no pain to you, reader.
See You Later