commute

When I got home last night around 7:45pm, I found my flatmates in the lounge eating a curry dinner. I collapsed onto the sofa and tore into my 6" sub, pleased it wasn't soggy following the one hour tube mission from Brixton to the north-west.

"Where have you been this evening?" asked Erica.

"Me? Nowhere - just work, then home." I had hoped to get to the supermarket, but at the end of the workday was too tired to deal with it. I saw the time and wondered why it had taken so long to get home. I still don't know.

The great thing about commuting lately is Slash - the autobiography.