….and I’m walking to the train, to go to an assignment, my bag is heavy, carrying my laptop also today to catch up on editing, and I get to the train station, standing in the morning sun, noticing the construction work differences done overnight, realising that new black tarmac replaces yesterdays wooden boards, watching the girl in her black suit with her great figure walk past, and the train arrives and there’s a guy squashed against the door window like an anchovy in a jar, like a kid against a sweetie shop window, and I get on and manage to make my way to the bit between two carriages, with the metal plate floor that swivels, and I stand in my little space watching everyone around me, the man nearby who has a nice black tie which I would buy if I saw it in a shop, and the guy who looks about 12 years old reading an English text paper about neuro-surgery and I can’t even understand what the title means, and I watch the little fragile seeming office girl who can’t reach any handles or hangers and looks scared and looks like she wants to be anywhere but here as she sways with the train’s every move like a stalk of corn in the wind, and I lose track of the stations we pass, and the only thing that makes it all seem ok is listening to my iPod loud to block out the train noises, the announcements of every stop made, of every door about to close, and of every station soon to be arrived at, and of the sniffing and coughing around from the employees of Corporate Japan Inc, and I’m smiling to myself as I listen to the purity of Antony and the Johnsons….