Book Creator

Next stop

by Anne-Louise Robertson


Next Stop
Sometimes I feel inspired to jot my random thoughts down on paper... don't know why and, to be honest, it doesn't happen often. Somehow the repetition of the 'Next Stop' message on the bus from the airport to work jolted my vaguely creative brain and I decided to write about my journey to work from Hamilton to Christchurch. I wish I'd thought to take photos out of the bus window. But I didn't, so you just have my words instead. Not as pretty but they'll have to do.
@robeanne August 2018 CC-BY
Dark morning. Cold. Sleepless night. Always the same when I set the alarm for an early start.

5am. Hit snooze. Delay the inevitable.

Slow to start. Porridge for breakfast. Going through the motions.

Bleary eyed boy. Woken from the warmth of slumber. Pay back time. Taxi service.
Next stop. Hamilton, no longer 'International' airport.

Window seat. Murmurs of 'hellos' and 'excuse mes' as passengers board.

Morning politeness. Sleep deprived commuters.
Briefcases and laptops.

Headphones plugged in. Noses in books.

Tip tapping on keyboards. Safe in our worlds.

Next stop. Christchurch, 'International' airport.

Dark gives way to light, almost unnoticeably.

Head in my book, I sense the lightening sky.