The night train approaches as I prepare to step down onto the tracks. This feels wrong, in the back of my mind something is telling me Londoners don’t commute by walking through the tunnels from one station to the next. Yet on the other hand it feels completely right.
The train doesn’t stop and in seconds it has passed me by. Whooshing and rumbling through the station. It’s gone I’m safe to walk along the dark, warm and windy tunnel. I can see the light of the next station ahead half a mile or so in the distance.
People are passing me all the way along my journey. Floating, flying above the tracks moving all around me. No trains just hundreds of people floating quickly by, one way or the other.
I rise light as air, drawn ever faster to the light ahead. Glancing back, I see the train, it didn’t pass after all. It’s stopped half in, half out of the tunnel. Lights glaring, such a commotion with people shouting and rushing around.
A woman appears my mother, this is getting most bizarre. We drift along the tunnel together towards the light. This must be a dream, that’s the only explanation. I think it’s time to leave this dream and wake up, that’s it I must wake up. My mother takes my hand she’s speaking to me now. What is it I wish I knew, too late she’s gone. The wind and noise disappear as I drift into the empty station. I don’t stop, just keep drifting and floating through the tunnels. I don’t like this dream, I want it to stop.