#347 – Empty Tube, Full Cabs

I cycled home early, early in the morning one night last week after the last train left without me. It wasn’t exactly something I would have chosen to do freely but there was something magical about flying through the empty, rain-soaked streets. 

#347 - A Late Night Bike Ride
#347 - back
sent from: London, UK. destination: Los Angeles, California, USA

Empty Tube, full cabs, my feet describing circles on the pedals. Puddles being refilled by over-eager waiters. 

A club, small huddled crowd. He stands with hands in his pockets. She stands holding a cigarette, their mouths together. 
A small park, pot smoke coming from the dark. 
A short girl, a tall man, cigarettes of equal length, wearing each other’s hats. 
A slingshot around the empty roundabout and I’m flying into the dark heart of the Common, certain that hands are reaching from the bushes to drag me down.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *