My bags at my feet I stand silent and still. A statue among the chaos.
People have somewhere to go, somewhere to be, someone waiting.
All moving, talking, a dance hall step and slide to avoid touch.
A smile, a wave, a connection made and broken. Journeys begun and ended.
A pickpocket moves with smooth grace lifting wallets for the man who holds his reins around the corner.
No-one sees him either.
I wait, an echo in the periphery of vision. I am still here when the last train leaves.
Nowhere to go. Nowhere to be. No one waiting.
I fell of the grid for a while there and swung a little hopelessly in the air. Now I am back and trying to find my feet again. Rochelle’s picture was an inspired choice as try to find my own direction.
Please have a look at some of the other fabulous submissions and try your hand at one of your own.
These are some of my favourites: