Rabia…Y también indiferencia. Adaptación de un relato anteriormente publicado.
(Look carefully. There it is, underneath a shallow varnish coating)
It’s raining –nothing too surprising in a cold winter morning–. It all starts on an early train, one of those that daily vertebrates London periphery with the great city. I can draft a detailed portrait of commuters –including my own– within the forty minutes’ duration of our trip. I see sleepy countenances, hidden behind newspapers and tabloids. I realise numerous expressionless faces, barely showing indolence or indifference for the most part, whilst few exceptions belong to those absorbed in reading –striving to hunt for the piece of news that will make their day–.
London Bridge station becomes a destination for many travellers. An endless human tide that rises on its own account, invades the surface and crosses the conspicuous bridge –unheeding the gusting wind– on its way to one of the world’s financial hubs.
The City is a swarm; pedestrians…
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