Stevenage went by quickly as did Hitchin.
The train is not as packed as before, in fact, there are several vacant seats
I am sat next to a mid(dle-aged)twenty year old. She's engrossed in her 'Elle' magazine
We're just leaving Arlesley and now heading for the next station, Biggleswade
As the train stop and the doors opened, the cold winter wind enters like an unwelcomed visitor and sits between me and my neighbour, sending a shiver through our bones
"The next station is Sandy"
"The next station is Sandy" repeats the tannoy
Yes! We f****** heard you the first time! So shout it!
"This train is for Peterborough" it continued
Well, you don't say!
Twenty sixteen now and even fewer commuters remains.