Back To Reality
White sand beaches, good people better times. Exotic characters with no back-story. Sun tanned youth from all corners of the West congregating upon the secret outpost. Spending their days smoking cigarettes and weed and watching the tide go in and out. Paradise. Well for a moment in time at least. I hear a French accent whispering to me softly. Sweet, exotic, unintelligible murmurs. On the horizon I can faintly make out her silhouette. Francoise. The whispers turn into terrified shrieks and a split second later the outpost is submerged by a Tsunami sized wave. Gave Over.
My dilated pupils re-calibrated themselves to my new surroundings, my face a palette of grease and cold sweat that I instinctively wiped away. Moments later my hazy memory returns and I remember where I am. Too hazy to wake up and with plenty of time before work I refrain from lighting up and pull the duvet covers over my head, heart still racing. I shut my eyes to try to find a sense of calm and resume my sleep but after half an hour I give up this futile quest and reach for a cigarette. Because of my erratic sleep patterns, I started my morning preparations for work somewhat earlier than usual so I had plenty of spare time for my journey to work. It's funny. Twenty years ago I went out of my way to travel, now the little travel I do is mundane at best and a chore at worst.
It's a typically dreary autumnal morning that sort of reflects the atmosphere of the city along with its inhabitant's collective mood. I along with hundreds of others descend into London's creaking underground system and wait a few mundane but intense minutes for the overcrowded trains that will take us south to the city centre and on to the hive. That's the nickname I've given to my place of work. The hive. Still a dreamer then! It's not the most original of nicknames but maybe my imagination and curiosity has dimmed with age.
Anyway, this journey is the same journey I've taken every week day for the past five years and similar to the journey to my previous less prestigious and worse paying job before that. The only reason I mention it is because I've got another story to tell and this is where it begins.