Tube time.

A sea of tailored black and a heavy silence, punctuated by tired eyes and an apprehension reserved for the day ahead. Shuffling feet move in small perimeters and heads remain bowed as single file movements match herding sheep.

Squashed elbows restrict natural movements and inevitable swaying and imbalance make for risky stretching to grab technicolor hand rails. The bodies are still asleep.

My steady hands enclose my means of mental escape; a book, providing a mechanism of voyeuristic reversal, as only my body remains forcibly tied to the limited perimeters. Heavy breathing and neighbouring earphones constitute my morning melodies. The outside is a whirring mesh of black as inside temperatures soar and sweat beads hang to freshly ironed shirts. Sharp buzzing announces arrival destinations, perpetuating the herding as furrowed brows find paths through crowded bodies. The heat intensifies as the timer clocks in at over 30 minutes before my sign arrives and signifies arrival destination.

My head rises as I pull myself out of the world I chose to escape to, my body coming to as they sync together and I move compactly without stifling the small movements of energy uniform to the environment.

I am now the sheep, but only in an effort to become the bird, and fly free into the fresh, open air.