Читать книгу Tuesday Falling - S. Williams - Страница 6

Sometimes, I like to just sit on the tube, travelling from station to station. The station, then the tunnel, then the station. Over and over.

The white. The black.

I never look directly at anyone; I always look at them in the windows. See them reflected in the dark of the machine.

Sometimes, when the noise in my head threatens to make me snowbound, I just travel the tube, tuning everything out. Leaning my head against the connecting door. Feeling the vibration. Feeling the ghosts move through me. Waiting for it all to stop.