Published by Open Love Letters


"Dear 08:17 Southern Service To London Victoria,

My old friend. It's been a while. It's strange how for all the things we are having to go without; Friday night drinks, Sunday night drinks, holding loved ones and being held. I think I might miss you the most. There is something compelling and desirable about being carried in the arms of transit right now. Having some place else to be and being caught between here and there.

Sitting still leaves no space for anticipation. I'm confronted with monsters that reside under my bed as I sleep every night. We argue, we blame one another and when we are too tired to battle anymore we reconcile. These conflicts are becoming easier and quicker to resolve. I will take that as a positive and run with it.

What I would give for the smell of morning coffees, smiling commuters offering seats to those who need them more, the sparkling eyes of hearts deep within the chapters of books filled with adventure and romance. Outside the world flies by. The suspense of what the day might bring amplified, the carriage acting as a waiting room for all manner of eventualities. I catch eyes with a stranger sat across from me. We smile at one another as if a shared secret hums in the quiet of this passage.

Perhaps I remember you wrong. Maybe not. Perhaps the tracks really are sweeter outside of this confinement. Until confirmation, my longing for you will remain.

I hope to see you soon,