Window

So,we're on the train to Camberwell and we don't really know how many stops are left to our destination.I push my face against the window and peer out,into the night.There are houses dark and steady,and we go under bridges where there are colourful drawings that I can't decipher or take in completely as the train we're on zooms pass.The trees,unyielding,their silhouettes shiver against the clear blue background,that once in a while illuminates with artificial glow as we pass by a lighted building or quiet town.There is a tune in the background,underneath the chatter and noise,that sounds vaguely familiar and comforts me,but it disappears as quickly as it comes.

And then the train stops with a painful screech,and we stand to alight.