My daily commute to the City involves one twenty-minute bus ride from Hackney to Moorgate Tube Station. I’ve been wondering when the time will come that I don’t feel the need to stare out the bus window, anticipating my stop, worried that if I look down I might miss it. I’ve envied the brave souls who are able to bury their head in a newspaper, with an innate ability to pick their head up just in time to see their stop approaching.
Last Thursday it happened. I usually take a book to work with me, intending to lug myself a few pages closer to “culture-hood”
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