I’m on the London Overground watching what the phones people are holding are doing to their faces: The man-bun guy who could not be less impressed by what he's seeing but cannot stop reading; the woman who's impatient for a response; the one who’s frowning; the one who’s puzzled; the one who’s fretting; the guy who's idly doom-scrolling.
It’s a kind of meditation, riding the tube, the double-deckers, sometimes it's a street theatre of people-watching.
Occasionally you get jolted out of the smooth glide by the announcement that this service is terminating at the next stop sorry, presumably for demand-management purposes but really, who knows. Silly to get upset, there's generally another one along in a few minutes.
