I closed my copy of Animal Farm by George Orwell.
"All animals are equal but some animals are more equal than others. That sums up the modern society of this cruel world."
I got up and slowly walked by the church as the bell rang twelve. It looked less busier than usual. A lot less busier than usual. It was more like a ghost town. The occasional person, greeting each other with a polite nod, but nothing more. No one felt safe and rightfully so, after the events of the last few weeks, I understand it.
I walked to the train station and got my ticket out my bag. The platforms were desolate. I got on to a train, London-bound. Whatever was left of the 'commuters' got on the slower train that left 5 minutes beforehand. The carriages were usually busy on my train.
Silence.
I approach the back of the train and sit in one of the booths. The train's lights flicker occasionally.
I look out the window. The fields look too burnt to be reusable. I look at the flowers, trampled and dead. The colour had left the field. I try and put it past me and put on my headphones.
I close my eyes.
I feel a hand on my shoulder the moment I do.
"Ticket and Passport."
The Conductor looked at me, waiting.
I hand it over. He stamps it for 'within-country' travel. I get off the train after what feels like eternity.
London. A shadow of what it once were.
BINABASA MO ANG
Over-Analyzation
General FictionAn ordinary person examines the world. They find it frustrating and go about their day. Knock. Knock. There goes the clock.
