Thursday, June 05, 2008
Normally, I don't read on the train.
I experimented with it in the early days, but it wasn't satisfactory.
If the book was not enthralling enough I'd be distracted by the chat and the train noise and end up staring, hypnotised, at the same houses from the same grimy windows, rather than absorbing the words on the page. Much worse, if the book really took hold of me I wouldn't want to leave it and, when prised out of its world, would be petulant and peevish, resentful as the walk to the office imposed the natural balance of 'reality'.
This morning, making the mistake of having ten minutes to spare before leaving the house, I picked up last night's newly started book to fill the time. On the train I opened it up again.
I laughed out loud. On the train.
Gig - Simon Armitage