Monday, the weather is nice and I get on the train without an issue as usual. On train two the metro has been laid out and I sit at my table seat as usual and have a read.
As I sit there staring out of the window I see a WhurstMetals, and think to myself, I didn’t realise they have a second branch here so close to the one where I worked? Then I saw Presslite and thought the same thing again. And then I saw the sand down facility and thought, bollocks I’ve forgotten to get off the train. How I never recognised the station I always get off when it pulled in I don’t know. But I was sitting there the sun in the window and the warmth on my face. I was so comfy.
Luckily the next station down isn’t far, too far to walk back but not far from getting back. Duddleston station is a deserted station sitting in solitude against the angry backlash of the city in its sights. Once know as Vauxhall, but that upset Ford.
Luckily there is a train coming soon. But before that train appears an unexpected fast train flies by. No warning, no hoot, just a rush of wind and noise.
It makes you ask does the next one actually stop here? It does and before you know it I’m at work, late and as it happens everyone is waiting for me as things aren’t going to plan, so what is the new plan then?
After a hard day at work the train comes and is rammed, rammed full. It doesn’t make for happy times.
Off the train and on my own two feet the works on the subway have begun, begun and making it a work of art.
And so they have set out to take the tiles off, to find that the last builder just tilted on tile!
Actually in the underpass they have been hard at it.
Here, just for now, you can get a glimpse back in history, touch if you please, before it will soon be covered back over.
I make my way for the walk back up above ground and to my home.