An open heart

I must be traveling a lot at the moment, because I have another train story for you today.

 

It was the last train out of Brighton on a Friday night.

It was packed with gently drunk people. Those who were standing swayed slightly with the movement of the train, yawning behind gloved hands.

To the side of me were two post-gig young men, their wrist-bands still intact, discussing Instagram accounts. In front of me were two women – one seated and the other standing - dissecting a mutual and absent friend. Across the aisle were a group of lads comparing shoes, and behind me was another woman who kept sneezing with the sound of a small, yelping dog.

And then I had a sudden, overwhelming feeling come through me. I can only describe it as compassion. I wanted to give all of these people a hug and wish them well.

Maybe it was just the mulled wine. But it made me think about living in a world where 'defensive' is the default mode, and how different things could be.

Pearl

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The disguised gardener

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The magic of mistakes