Blogue d'un québécois expatrié en Angleterre. Comme toute forme d'autobiographie est constituée d'une large part de fiction, j'ai décidé de nommer le blogue Vraie Fiction.
Monday, 16 December 2013
I waited an extra ten minutes for the train for my commute home tonight. On a Monday night, it feels like an extra ten minutes that would usually feel like a fraction of Purgatory, yet I barely noticed it. Trains have been running late quite a lot recently, either way of my commute. It is now even snowing yet or anything, yet it feels very much like winter has messed up the train line. And it is barely winter. Something struck me when I stepped in the packed train: people seemed so resigned. Quiet, bored and resigned, as if they are all waiting for something. Christmas is coming soon, so people don't complain or even grumble about minor disagreeable moments. And I still love trains no matter what.