You walked out of the park and towards Starbucks. You'd just had a long and strenuous day at work in the Apple store. You'd had to deal with a particularly trying customer who wouldn't take no for an answer when you tried to tell him you didn't have any iPhone 5's left in stock. You'd visited the park briefly after work, as per-usual. You loved to watch the little ducks and birds around the pond.
You walked into Starbucks and ordered a medium Toffee Nut Latte and bought a brownie. You walked out, drink in one hand while you shoved your brownie in your coat pocket, planning to eat it on the train. You weaved through the crowds of people, heading towards the luminescent Underground sign. As you got to the stairs you cursed under your breath. You always hated rush hour, you got shoved all over the place and it seemed that you always got stuck next to the large sweaty guy who insisted on using the ceiling bar, his armpit right next to your face so that everytime the train stopped you nearly facepalmed into the sweatpit below his arm.
You pulled out your Oyster card as you approached the barriers, being careful not to spill your coffee down your chest. You scanned through then made your way to the Northern Line going Southbound. The platform was completely packed full of business men and women in suits, all going home from their daily office jobs. You tried to squeaze yourself against the wall but it was no use, you were forced to stand in the middle of the archway, more and more people brushing past you as they walked onto the platform, precariously close to the yellow line. You decided to wait for the next train as one zoomed past, slowing to a stop. People rushed off, then the people waiting pushed into the already overly-packed carriages. The doors slid closed and you sighed in relief as you were able to find a spot against the wall. You waited for the next train, then got into the moderatley less squashed carriage. Every seat was taken, but there were a few people standing, thankfulling there was enough room to move about. You leant against one of the glass panes next to the seats and sipped your latte, savouring the sweet but still bitter taste of the warm liquid as it slipped down your throat.
''A/N : sorry for a short-ish chapter''