I was listening to my favourite band when the automatic voice spoke. Well, the music was drawn by other noises.
I saw the girl in her uniform rushing out to the door, yelling some words that I didn’t bother to listen to but they just flow into my ears. Well, she was late for her work, it was not her to blame.
I saw a man in an expensive suit, judged by me, holding a black case. His face looked too serious, enough to make my feelings of music all go away. He should have that face in the office, not here. Well, he was late for his meeting, maybe, it was not him to blame.
I saw a woman, Chinese maybe, calculating her changes. Next to her laid the shopping bag. It seemed like she was cheated by the shopkeeper in the market. Did you not receive enough changes? Well, talk to the shopkeeper. Don’t bring all that Chinese swearing here. Well, maybe she was in a hurry, it was not her to blame.
Dozens of new people walked in, and settled, and started to do their own things.
Everything became quite again. I wonder for how long, maybe two minutes or so?
Well, it was not us to blame.
I was on the train.
It was late.
By Nguyệt Hạ,
Minh Yên Lâu