When you finally board that delayed train—perhaps an hour later, your coffee cold and your patience frayed—you might notice the other passengers are unusually quiet. The jostle for a seat is gentler. The eye contact is softer. That’s the unspoken effect of a difficult morning: we remember, even briefly, that we’re all in this together. That the person next to you might have a story just as heavy as your own.
So next time Southern Rail announces “disruption after a person was hit by a train,” take a breath. Text your boss, sure. But also pause. Think about the tracks as pathways, not just obstacles. In our rush to get somewhere, we forget the somewhere isn’t just a destination—it’s the people we’re traveling with, and those we’ll never meet. The train will move again. The city will hum. But for a few minutes, we’re all just standing still, waiting for the green light to return.
And if all else fails, that granola bar in your bag? It’s surprisingly good with a lukewarm coffee and a deep exhale.
