He wondered if he wasn't due a miracle for all the praying he'd been forced to do as a child. The praying he'd continued into his adult life even when he was wise enough not to believe in the notion of a God anymore and he only did so as a good each way bet that might pay dividends down the line of it turns out he was wrong after all. If he closed his eyes and went to sleep, could he wake up in a new place as a new person absolved of the sins of his current life? He tapped his oyster card on the scanner and the barrier snapped open as if it couldn't wait to see the back of him either much like everyone else in his life, why should a machine be any different? His legs felt like they might give way at any point as he trundled down the stairs each step feeling heavier than the last. He could have used the escalators like everyone else but his older brother had told him when he was 4 or maybe 5 that they came alive and ate people and had scared the living daylights out of him and even now he refused to step foot on one. His body felt the tiredness in every sinew other than in his mind which danced with anxious thoughts full of energy like a tribe of ravers off their faces on acid, ecstacy, coke or whatever it was that kids took nowadays to escape themselves. Maybe he should have tried that approach instead. Some nights the thoughts that kept him awake were much worse, they came at him like he was stuck in a locked room full of children high on sugar and sunshine, each one louder than the last all at once screaming for attention where he wished to give them none and simply to be left alone in peace.
At some point his body had switched to autopilot because he looked up and saw a woman quickly turn her face away from his pretending she hadn't been staring at him however the guilt was etched all over her face. Pity would have been a kinder reaction which said much for the sorry state of the man she'd been looking at if that was eminently preferable to one of guilt. The gentle rocking of the train must have lulled him back into early childhood like a lullaby because he woke with a start to find he'd travelled two stops shorter than where he'd started on the circle line and was neither somewhere new or a new person who'd reached absolution. If this had been the subway in America he'd have asked for the lend of a weapon and finished the job himself. Instead he banged his head against the back of the window. Part out of anger and frustration, part to wake himself up his body having finally given way to sleep, part just to feel something to remind himself he was still alive. He noticed his legs ached less, that was something at least. Perhaps he could stay on the train in a constant loop, it would have been no different to his world above ground. Every time you thought you'd outrun your problems you'd find yourself right back in the same spot and repeat ad infinitum.
He stopped in the tunnel to listen to a woman singing, fished into his coat pocket and threw what change he had into her little box to buy himself some kindness. She gave him a little nod of appreciation where he'd been looking for a smile but he guessed singing and smiling at the same time was maybe above her level of talents. Not that she was blessed with any in regards to singing. He found himself wanting to tell her to buy herself some singing lessons but he'd done enough damage to everyone else's lives so maybe he shouldn't add to the list. The nod, although not what he was looking for was still the most positive reaction he'd had all week. Well human reaction anyway, if you counted a stray ginger Tom rubbing itself up against his leg then it came second on the incredibly short list. He looked at the woman and guessed she was probably close to fifty years of age, still chasing her dream, hoping that one day a music producer would stumble by and exclaim she's the voice they'd been looking for all their life and put her on the fast track to stardom. It was never going to happen but somehow she still seemed to be making more success of her life than he was of his. He walked on with his ears ringing angrily from the off key sounds of the woman's singing reverberating against the walls of his head in the same manner so many other women had done before over the years though in fairness they'd have been shouting obscenities in his direction before he disappeared from sight and walked out of their lives for good. At least this time he'd had the common courtesy to leave a tip and not a bill that most of the women would spend a lifetime trying to pay and only manage to cover the interest. Most of the time it was an emotional debt but sometimes he'd left them both with empty pockets of trust in men and money. If men are all Arseholes then he was the one that put the capital on the A.
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