On deporting back into the “real world”,
I slyly smile to myself. Above me voices call out,
chattering, instructing, commanding,
informing, declaring, persuading, transacting,
spitting, coughing, hawking. I barely miss a
scratch or a hum now.
Coming back to this side, horns honk incessantly,
mobile rings more often, happy looking youngsters
drinking on a night out. It all falls into a harmonius
pattern you’ll be surprised.