It was the rush hour homeward. He has managed to occupy two seats at the muted chagrin of other exhausted commuters.
At the train station, he was insisting on getting a discount. The station assistant had repeated for the umpteen time that there were no ‘promos’ going on at the moment.
The air of self importance was palpable and you could imagine that he had traveled ‘business class’ at the tax payers expense until now.
I was crushed like the most passengers who stood through their journey, lucky to make the train and eager to make the jump off.
He sat cross legged. Tilted his head, accustom, reading The free Evening Standard Newspaper, through his bifocal.
Listening and Creative Communication