Abubilla Music

Suicidal Mr Driver & a Carriage Full of Zombies

Written by Imogen

It took me 3 hours to get into work this morning.  It normally takes me an hour – about as long as it takes for me towake up and accept the fact that I’m on the train going to That Place again. 

Are you sitting comfortably?  I wasn’t…

• 07:30 Sat down
• 07:50 Looked up from Metro and we hadn’t moved yet – Something was wrong
• 08:00 Tuned into train announcements and listened to flustered Mr Driver blathering about a fire in London, red lights, dawn of the Apocolypse, his wife has left him, blah blah freaking blah
• 08:05 Train lurched towards London
• 08:05:36 Train ground to screeching halt in tunnel
• 08:06 Common people around me started to get irritated
• 08:20 Arrived at Tonbridge and chuckled at the lame Nemi cartoon on Page 30 something of the paper
• 08:50 iPod jammed – Suddenly listening to gentle babbling stream of verbal worry that is Mr Driver giving us blow by blow account of his professional breakdown
•  09:10 Realised I’m not on normal line – we’re being diverted – trees aren’t quite as green, graffitti on buildings is more skilful and angrier, lots of crows sitting on lamposts – I’m not in Kent anymore
• 09:30 Risk sanity & take earphones out to find out where I’m headed.  Mr Driver sobbing over tannoy about Victoria being final destination – Does he mean for him or us?  Crossed my mind to use the emergency ‘speak to driver’ cord and scream at him to buck the hell up
• 09:31 Glanced round carriage to find the cord but cant see beyond end of my seat for the sea of zombies crushed up against each other shuffling, muttering, dribbling, hating life generally
• 09:32 Gave up on idea
• 09:40 Zombie Idiot lost it’s mind – reached over above my head, gripped window with rotting hands & opened it right up
• 09:41 Shivered to core of my soul as icy suburban wind raced up & down my jumper.  Swallowed any anger I may have had and decided not to speak out as Zombie Idiot won’t hear me anyway.  Zombie Idiot doesnt even know anyone else exists within it’s space
• 09:41:30 Other zombies started talking.  Incoherrent bubbles of speech.  Speech got louder and one of them forgot his place in the carriage of hell and actually attempted communication with Zombie Idiot
• 09:41:45 Window pushed shut by brave zombie
• 09:42 Window opened by Zombie Idiot
• 09:43 ZOMBIE WAR
• 09:44 Window shoved shut, warmth from radiotor crept back into my jumper and the muttering zombies resumed their low harmonics after the outburst of rage.  Zombie Idiot’s limbs lie scattered around the carriage already forgotten about.  Good.
• 10:00 Battersea Power station loomed on my right and I tried to count the broken windows.
• 10:15 Sat outside Victoria station and decided that THIS IS NOT THE FUTURE.  It is not my future.  I never want to be on a train full of zombies again
• 10:25 Mr Driver announced we were at Victoria and that he wished us all a good onward journey – I’d like to know if he shot himself there and then or decided to carry on with his life in the hope that it can only get better?
• 10:30 Entered through the glass doors of my employers and another day started

In 45minutes I have to go and catch my train home.  I can’t wait.