“Clocks move slower than time. It’s science, or at least something very science adjacent, surely. If only they’d fund the research.”
The nebulous definition of “they” in which the bored thoughts flitted lackadaisical, were beginning to move onward toward what many male thoughts will do if given idleness.
“If that man came at me with a knife, I reckon I could take him. Feint to the left, get close, open up his right side. Just twist the wrist and now you have the knife. Jump that wall there, skip onto the train and into the out boarding window. A clean escape.”
The Elderly Greek man, that this wandering mind was currently summing up, had paused to share a piece of his muffin with a pigeon who had taken up residence in Balendup central station. He smiled with the joy of which life blesses upon the truly kind people of the world.
A loud sigh.
The train to Sydney was still 25 minutes away.
“G D B- The train on platform (1) will not stop at this station, for those wishing to join this service please prepare to jump at your convenience. Elderly commuters are asked to report to the strongest looking station guard. Repeat, the trai-“
This is going to be a long wait.
Sunday Short Stories 