Late night travelling
I love travelling at night. Particularly on public transport.
Even just walking it's nice. It is so quiet and serene in the darkness when there's only a few people around, but buses especially so. When the inside is lit and there may as well be no world beyond it, it's surreal.
Next time you are, just look around at the scattering of people and try to work out their stories, the old man huddled in the corner, the chinese student nearly falling asleep or the guy listening to music as they watch out the window. The occasional snatch of a conversation and laughter.
Who are they? Why are they on the bus this late? Where is their home? Or are they going home at all?
For example we were waiting for the bus after coming back from hull were two guys who looked and sounded like the most stereotypical chavs you could find. But they were talking about Jesus and how he had saved them and directed them onto the right path, talking about how they had come to Christianity, the people they'd known, the life they'd lived and their horror at it now they looked back.
But what really struck me was that they were talking with that note of belief and hope. It was the same as Mojay's unwavering faith in the Soldier, the fealty Cara swore to her Captain, when Howitz reached out to people and they followed him. It was... surreal, but amazing, just listening to them talk and realising something important. That even for people who most of society would have given up on and for people who have sunk that low...
There is still hope.
And all of this on a still night in a slightly grimy plastic bus-shelter on a railway bridge in the middle of Coventry.
Good night, to all the people still travelling home.
Even just walking it's nice. It is so quiet and serene in the darkness when there's only a few people around, but buses especially so. When the inside is lit and there may as well be no world beyond it, it's surreal.
Next time you are, just look around at the scattering of people and try to work out their stories, the old man huddled in the corner, the chinese student nearly falling asleep or the guy listening to music as they watch out the window. The occasional snatch of a conversation and laughter.
Who are they? Why are they on the bus this late? Where is their home? Or are they going home at all?
For example we were waiting for the bus after coming back from hull were two guys who looked and sounded like the most stereotypical chavs you could find. But they were talking about Jesus and how he had saved them and directed them onto the right path, talking about how they had come to Christianity, the people they'd known, the life they'd lived and their horror at it now they looked back.
But what really struck me was that they were talking with that note of belief and hope. It was the same as Mojay's unwavering faith in the Soldier, the fealty Cara swore to her Captain, when Howitz reached out to people and they followed him. It was... surreal, but amazing, just listening to them talk and realising something important. That even for people who most of society would have given up on and for people who have sunk that low...
There is still hope.
And all of this on a still night in a slightly grimy plastic bus-shelter on a railway bridge in the middle of Coventry.
Good night, to all the people still travelling home.