I was up and out horrifically early this morning for an untimely 6.20am commute. An 8am conference call with a host of Antipodeans in both Australia and New Zealand awaits my office arrival.
But as I stumbled through my front door to start my short 10minute trudge to the station I noticed that my world felt strange. The suburban street scene that greets me every day seemed vastly different – it was so dark and empty.
Yes, the street lamps were still lit, but I have never noticed the effect that the sleeping world has on my quiet residential road. Every curtain was closed and there was no life, sound or light spreading out from inside. No hair dyers, showers, blaring televisions or beaming kitchens. North Sheen had died, it was nothing more than a ghost town – eerie and surreal.
And I enjoyed it. I almost felt guilty checking my phone with its small but powerfully bright screen. So I simply crept along, making every effort not to disturb anyone or anything, appreciating the difference and tranquility.
Sitting (comfortably) in a bright empty carriage, life has returned to normality. But I enjoyed my small peek into the quiet night.
I’m bloody tired though – time to order a big vat of coffee…