Plenty

Well, there you have it. Standing at East Croydon with my shopping, train that should whisk me to Redhill in all of seventeen minutes. Seventeen! But it’s been over an hour now, and here I am. Won’t complain. All got our burdens to bear, haven’t we? These plastic handles are really starting to cut into my hands. Fingers have started turning blue. Thing is, if I fiddle with them too much they might snap any minute and my shopping would go everywhere. *Laughs quietly to herself*. I’ll manage.

Thought of taking the bus, but that’d be an hour and a half on the only service that’s still running, and after all the waiting I think it's best to stick it out. Wouldn't want to be leaving the station to hear the train coming in. No, best to stick it out here. At least I’m in a country that knows how to muddle through. There’s plenty to be thankful for, really. No magic money tree, that's what they say, and fair enough. We’ve weathered worse. It’s not the station guard’s fault, and I’d rather not trouble him. Got enough on his plate.

The tannoy crackles to life, and there it is—the announcement. The train is to arrive on Platform 5. Platform 5! And where am I? Platform 2, of course. Typical. But no time to moan. Oh these bags, my poor fingers. Never mind. Up the steps as fast as I can, weaving through the crowd of people glued to their phones. No one offers to help, the ones that look up look amused. That’s alright. I’m used to handling things myself.