Results tagged “chatham”

under covered areas

My left eye's corner watched as he approached.
A fanfare of scarves bursting from his coat.
Hand knitted gloves and beanie. Dragging his left leg.

I distract myself with unnecessary fingernail maintenance

"you can't smoke here" he tells me,
"you can't .. not here, no"
His concealed finger slowly traces an arc, from the ground
to me and then onwards,
to the rusty roof covering platform 3

"You... can't smoke here"
I nod, and return to my index finger,
he sits beside me, and slowly lowers his.

"no, cant smoke, not here!"

I'll keep that in mind
in case I ever start.


When things were new, we would walk down Essex Road hand in hand, having seen the sun rise in each other's eyes, having kissed, like lovers kiss before breakfast, having asked if we looked good in this, having worn the tie she got me or the skirt I got her.

We would glide across Canterbury Road, the traffic biblically opening itself up to us, we would walk towards Chatham station the 8:02 Flinders Street direct could depart seconds before we reached the platform, it didn't matter, how could it matter.

Later we would walk together, our minds awash with what the day had in store, meetings, lectures, lunch options, occasionally hoping for a weekend or a holiday.

We would cross Canterbury Road at the lights, the cars a seamless flow of metal and frustration. We would validate, stand together on the platform and silently kiss goodbye at Richmond because the loop train meant a three minute shorter walk to work.

Sometimes we had to run to make the 8:02, sometimes only one of us made it.

Near the end she would walk ahead of me, stand at the city end of the platform because it was closer to the Elizabeth Street exit, put the headphones from her flat batteried walkman in her ears and hold her 3 for the price of 4 novel upside down. She always sat in the last available seat in a 6 seat spot, with her back to where she thought I would be.