Train Training


I am on a train. It is Colin’s camp train. It is giving me a lift to Exeter Central, where there is a talk and lesson about train driving going on. I am in a open bed truck full of boulders. The weight is essential for inertia.

I climb down from the train and enter a ticket office. The woman beyond the counter is dealing with a phone enquiry. She finishes and answers another call. I am annoyed. Behind her I can see a poster for the driving lesson event, but can’t see Wolverhampton on the list. She serves someone else then leaves. I’m really annoyed. I wait and another member of staff appears. This one walks off without saying anything. I lay in a bed in the ticket office, with a cat and dog, waiting for his return.

An old man appears, and a huge queue of people. He skips to the next person. I shout at him, pointing out that I have been waiting hours. A soldier tells me to chill out. The old man looks sad. He’s not a volunteer. I ask if they are running a business.

I leave.

I walk through Sandwell and Dudley with my mate Dave. We kick a hand made football.

I’m sad I didn’t get to drive a train.

πŸš‚πŸš‚πŸš‚πŸš‚πŸš‚πŸš‚πŸš‚πŸš‚πŸš‚πŸš‚

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