Wednesday, November 29, 2006

The Doors

'I'll close the door then', the bloke working on the platform said as I didn't close the door behind me whilst getting onto a train, because I don't work there. Don't get me wrong, I have no real objection to closing train doors and would happily do it just for the pure orgasmic enjoyment only closing train doors can bring a person. The trouble is the last time I closed the door behind me after thinking I was last on, I got the guard ripping the door open with a 'that's my job' look in his eye and an old woman who smelt of goat wobbled on moaning about the 21st century like it was nothing to do with her.I've had 30 years of influence on the world, she had probably had about 70. Statistically all the problems in society are more likely to be her fault than mine. She’s had longer to stir her wooden spoon of contempt in the dirty fat cake of earthly affairs. I hadn’t closed the door in her dumb-folded face deliberately, but I remember that look of pure dirty vindaloo strength disapproval with out a cooling naan and I didn’t want it again and that is why I didn’t close the door and upset the Mr “Not part of my job”.

I can’t pretend it didn’t spoil the journey. I knew I could have been the one to close that door. To seal the carriage from the outside world. But I didn’t because of one look from an old women all those years ago. That's why they invented the automatic sliding doors, so there was no blame, no hate. The richness of human community could be unspoilt by convention to complicated for most of us. Next time I meet the old fashioned doors, I’m going to have to stand outside the carriage until just before the train is ready to leave, then jump on quickly and close the door as it starts moving. Neither side can attack me for that. I will be without guilt, set free. I can watch the broken buildings and empty fields fly pass as we slide along the tracks.

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