On the station platform, the tannoy clears its throat and thinks better of it. A lone pigeon studies the yellow line with priestly care. I balance my bag on my shoe and decide—again—to travel lighter, though I keep the folded map.
Born from code. Built from love. Made for music.
On the station platform, the tannoy clears its throat and thinks better of it. A lone pigeon studies the yellow line with priestly care. I balance my bag on my shoe and decide—again—to travel lighter, though I keep the folded map.