They've replaced the seats. I used to like the high benches; I'd perch and swing my feet. These shiny new seats have long backs and rounded bums, with armrests like elbows delineating personal space. I was never sure how many bums the benches were made for. I suppose they were made for four, but I'd mind the gap, wary in case someone thought I was soliciting snuggles.
I think how forlorn I must look, with my little borrowed backpack and my red coat, when the DART pulls into the station. I feel a little forlorn this morning, a little left behind. I am the only one on the platform. The driver acknowledges as much with a nod of his head.
Turns out, I'm the only one on the train. When the tinny tannoy voice announces the stops, she does it just for me.
Dublin is quiet today. The sky is a beautiful pinkish grey, a shade it seems to reserve for early morning. It jars at this time of day. I wonder if it is the absence of life on her streets that lends the city her hue - a matter of mood, not meridian. It's a lovely thought, if a lonely one.
I think how forlorn I must look, with my little borrowed backpack and my red coat, when the DART pulls into the station. I feel a little forlorn this morning, a little left behind. I am the only one on the platform. The driver acknowledges as much with a nod of his head.
Turns out, I'm the only one on the train. When the tinny tannoy voice announces the stops, she does it just for me.
Dublin is quiet today. The sky is a beautiful pinkish grey, a shade it seems to reserve for early morning. It jars at this time of day. I wonder if it is the absence of life on her streets that lends the city her hue - a matter of mood, not meridian. It's a lovely thought, if a lonely one.
