I thought it sad when, this morning as I marched robotically alongside my fellow commuters to my required tube platform and the voice over the tannoy announced that some train lines were temporarily out of service due to a person under a train, my first thought, far from being any emotion or concern for the person, was to hope that it wasn’t the line that I needed. I knew I wasn’t alone in thinking these thoughts, yet I didn’t feel comforted by this.
At what point do we become so detached/disassociated/disconnected from each other? Or have we always been this way?
On the other hand, as I stepped into the train this evening to go home afer a long, effortful, day, I noticed an entire row of seats was empty so I made a beeline for it. There, lying on the train floor like a pizza with no base, was a big splat of vomit.