Fantastic Shits and Where to Find Them
February 8th, 2019.
It's a foggy morning, you get out of the car and attempt to wave back to your mum, except you have no line of sight. You don't know what you're waving at.
As the clouds swallow up the car and the sounds of the engine start up and descend down the road and past the roundabout, the mood settles in.
The Tuesday Mood.
Not the Monday blues, but the Tuesday mood; slightly worse.
Monday, you start, and by the time Tuesday rolls about you're counting down the days till Saturday, counting Tuesday too.
You check the times and make your way down the endless flight of stairs headed towards Platform 3. After the escalator collapse in Rome, you now have an eternal fear of escalators but refuse to admit it. Instead you force yourself to believe that this new transition to stairs is because it's "healthy" and "good for your body".
You're pushed to the sidewall, your hands clutched on to the railing. Women with satchels scurry by, hitting you but never looking back. Almost like they have a place to be, but you don't.
You finally arrive, and awkwardly lean against a pole whilst scanning the platform for a seat. You spot a bench, deserted, at the far side of the platform. Sitting their would earn you a spot at the very front of the train which would be great since you would be the closest to the exit when you reached the spot.
You start walking; the fog backing away slowly as you approach the bench.
There seems to be what resembles a wooden suitcase, with a giant padlock and a message engraved on the front. You get to the bench, retrieve your glasses and lean closer to the suitcase. The message reads:
"The shit that never fades"
Do you:
It's a foggy morning, you get out of the car and attempt to wave back to your mum, except you have no line of sight. You don't know what you're waving at.
As the clouds swallow up the car and the sounds of the engine start up and descend down the road and past the roundabout, the mood settles in.
The Tuesday Mood.
Not the Monday blues, but the Tuesday mood; slightly worse.
Monday, you start, and by the time Tuesday rolls about you're counting down the days till Saturday, counting Tuesday too.
You check the times and make your way down the endless flight of stairs headed towards Platform 3. After the escalator collapse in Rome, you now have an eternal fear of escalators but refuse to admit it. Instead you force yourself to believe that this new transition to stairs is because it's "healthy" and "good for your body".
You're pushed to the sidewall, your hands clutched on to the railing. Women with satchels scurry by, hitting you but never looking back. Almost like they have a place to be, but you don't.
You finally arrive, and awkwardly lean against a pole whilst scanning the platform for a seat. You spot a bench, deserted, at the far side of the platform. Sitting their would earn you a spot at the very front of the train which would be great since you would be the closest to the exit when you reached the spot.
You start walking; the fog backing away slowly as you approach the bench.
There seems to be what resembles a wooden suitcase, with a giant padlock and a message engraved on the front. You get to the bench, retrieve your glasses and lean closer to the suitcase. The message reads:
"The shit that never fades"
Do you: