Alien dwellings

The double doors slid open and a group of ruddy faced men with blood shot eyes got on. The smell of stale cigarettes and alcohol made me feel sick. I kept my head down, I didn't want to get into any kind of conversation. One of them invited the blonde tram attendant to the Philippines but was unable to answer, when she asked what was there. He didn't seem to care. To start with she humoured them, but she soon tired of their warped perception. I watched them for a while, from a distance. It was as if they were living in a world of their own. Surrounded by people but dislocated from everything. Reminiscent of a childhood impression that motorway service stations were the most peculiar of places; believing they were miles from anywhere, a kind of alien land. I used to wonder why people would want to work in such places and how they got to them without travelling for hours on end?

Before long a feeling of irritation washed over me; all this endless talking. I was tired and my bags were heavy. I was ready to be on my own.