PRESTON TO WARRINGTON
Blurred lines merged at high speed. Standing, well, leaning against the door, head pressed against the cool metal work. Random people pass by with cases, fleeting words captured and missed. Train full, "a little bit busy" said the new guard at his handover
She's so cute. . . by the time your bus gets in
A mass of rucksack, bedroll packed to the ginnels, almost knocking me over and blocking the walkway and the passage at the same time. Leaning. Squinting
Me girlfriend, about an hour to wait for tea
A woman who's like this
We slow, internal doors open to let the shoppers pass by.
Slowing to Wigan Northwestern, you have reached your destination.
No tickets collected
No pleasantries exchanged
Love you all
I'll be the streaking guy
Hello did you just call?
Green. Green trees, Sycamore mostly, building their empires in filled with silver birch, straggly bushes. Blue tape fencing, keeping us out distanced by movement and time. Speed, sensing the fast pace, back aching from being upright For most of the day. Rosebay willow herb, pink strands poke through the green scrub.
She's 'ad some trouble at school
She doesn't want to talk to her Mum abou' i'
Foxgloves, drying corn or wheat fields. I feel the changing pressure as a train passes by, coaches run parallel for a short time, speeding on their journey.
We arrive and I get ready to depart.