Wednesday, 13 September 2006


A burly builder sleeps as the train trundles along, one foot up on the seat in front to steady himself, arms folded across his chest, head sinking into his neck. A slight woman gets on and slides into the seat next to him. Her shawl tassle brushes his arm and he jerks awake with a start. They both jump. "Sorry, luv, knackered, I was well gone," he says slurily. She whispers apologies. He shuts his eyes and drops off again chuckling to himself. She flicks a glance at him, concerned that she woke him.

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