Wheezing, groaning
Travelling on the Underground late afternoon, aside from the carriage seemingly being more than usually full of loving couples, I overheard a couple of Doctor Who fans eagerly counting down till 7.15pm.
"How long now?" one of them kept chiding the other with deliberate relentlessness. "Is it less than two hours yet? Is it? As long as we've got plenty of time, that's the main thing." Inevitably, his face was full of unashamedly boyish enthusiasm. And inevitably, he looked about 45 years old.
His companion, who was even older, displayed far more restraint and dignity. He just merely beamed a huge beam and tapped his watch, knowingly. A short while later, both hared off the train as if their lives depended on it. They looked and acted as if they intended to move heaven and earth to be back in time to watch the show.
They really needn't have bothered. 3/10 at best. There just wasn't any soul.
"How long now?" one of them kept chiding the other with deliberate relentlessness. "Is it less than two hours yet? Is it? As long as we've got plenty of time, that's the main thing." Inevitably, his face was full of unashamedly boyish enthusiasm. And inevitably, he looked about 45 years old.
His companion, who was even older, displayed far more restraint and dignity. He just merely beamed a huge beam and tapped his watch, knowingly. A short while later, both hared off the train as if their lives depended on it. They looked and acted as if they intended to move heaven and earth to be back in time to watch the show.
They really needn't have bothered. 3/10 at best. There just wasn't any soul.
posted by Alistair Myles at 9:14 pm
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