Wimbledon Station at 00:09
…the magical time, at a deserted Wimbledon train station, when all the tickets machines have reset themselves in unison, all ready for me to renew my week’s travelcard, instead of having to queue in the mayhem tomorrow morning.
Just for a second, when the screens switch off, and flicker, and blink in and out of consciousness, I scare myself, wondering if they’ll come back alive ok.
But then they do, without my interference – in unison.
And they’ll do the same thing tomorrow, at 00:09. And the day after. And the day after that, probably.
Order and routine can be cool, sometimes.
(This was written by a friend and posted on a messageboard; I’m not sure if it’s strictly travel, but I liked it, and this seemed the best place.)