The World is Made of Water

When I leave the office it is raining, the way it has been raining all day: a thin steady soaking drizzle, the sort that can go on for days. As I cross the bridge to the station it seems for a moment as though it might be relenting, but it is only a moment and then it resumes, steadier than ever. The rain is seeping through my jacket, up through my shoes, turning my paper into mush. The cars inch past, blocking the junction but at least going too slowly to splash through the puddles and drench us all. I reach the station with two minutes to spare, thinking longingly already of a dry, lit, warm train, and a chance to sit down. But the platform is packed with commuters, bedraggled as wet birds. The train has been cancelled. And the one before it, by the look of things, and the one before that as well. We wait, in the rain, listening to the announcements. A train – late, already packed – finally arrives and a hundred damp commuters resignedly cram themselves on.

Outside, the dark grey sky of the afternoon merges imperceptibly into dusk. It is still raining. It seems as though it will always rain. The world is made of water.

I hate this time of the year.


8 responses to “The World is Made of Water

  1. On the plus side at least all those bodies will create a lot of heat to help dry you out faster (as it’s pretty much guaranteed that the heaters that have been jammed on full blast for the hottest part of the summer will now suddenly fail for winter… or is that just SE Trains? 🙂 ).

  2. Today was the opposite to Sunday which I’m sure you’ll agree was a glorious day.
    If you’re right then I’ll have to think about turning the allotment into a rice paddy!

  3. TMC – unfortunately with everyone wet, we all ended up gently steaming
    Flighty – yes, and I suppose better a dry weekend and a wet week than vice versa.

  4. i get ready to leave for work and look outside to see what the weather is like. it is overcast but i only have a 10 minute walk across port medow to get to my place of employment. the best time is in the winter theres less people and it seems much more peacefull. i come to the river and pause to watch the ducks and swans and maybe throw them abit of bread, there are moorhens too. i sometimes cycle to work but its better to walk as you can look around and appreciate every thing more. of course some times it rains and then i have to take the dreaded car, but not often.
    god, i hope your well paid.
    all the best john

  5. John clearly not well enough. If that was my commute, I think I’d walk even if it was raining…

  6. I wish I was a duck.

    Then I would like this weather.

    And I wouldn’t have to worry about going to work in the pissing rain because I wouldn’t have a job to get to or bills or rent to worry about or an expired travelcard or to queue to buy a new one or stupid housemates who sit up talking on the phone all night, or an inability to decide what to have for dinner etc etc etc.

  7. It was rather nice up here. But flipping cold in the morning at my house leading to a cycling clothing error that meant I arrived at work like a boiled lobster…

  8. Blue Soup – I often wish I was a duck, until I remember duck sex … gang rape has nothing on it

    Sarah – it’s well known, whatever outfit you wear for cycling will be the wrong one.

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