London Underground. . . I run up the stairs and catch the train at the last minute as the doors are closing, I find an empty seat. I open Keith Richards book“Life”, it grabs my attention from the first lines . . . I have to conclude my reading session early. The train is faulty, the door will not open in one of the carriages. Everyone needs to get off. I am waiting for the next train, it begins to rain, the chances of getting a seat are nil. The train arrives, I enter, we’re packed like sardines…no more reading, no space to even move my arms. I arrive, London Bridge, I get off here. I want to get out as soon as possible from the underground; one of the main exits is closed without any reason. I join the masses, rushing and struggling to escape the station, pushing and falling into each other exiting the station like a heaving mass. I’m outside, it’s still raining, I put my hood over my head, I don’t like umbrellas. I am listening to The Rolling Stones. . .

In the office, desk, computer, another email, phone rings … Finally, lunch. I am going out from Shad Thames. I walk under the bridge – Tower Hill. I’m standing on the south side of the River Thames – opposite City Hall, surrounded by office buildings. On the river, ships are floating past. The bridge is rising. Tourists are taking pictures. The London carousel continues to spin. And Me in the middle of “it”, I am standing and wondering, “What am I doing here?”Tower Bridge, London

P.S.

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Pawel Dobrowolski

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