the drone

He said he was fifty two and ’ tired ‘.
I noticed he had that chewed -up – and – spat – out look about him that screamed, " I’m just a drone ".
His words cut through the fetid air of the jam-packed carriage. Clearly they made others decidedly uncomfortable. Inwardly they were probably agreeing with him.
I tried to engage him further, because to just leave it there would feel wierd. He would not look at me , so we sat in silence and shared the window. I could hear his breathing over the clickety clack.
Again he quietly whispered to himself, " So tired ………….".
His voice trailed off swallowed by a Connex announcement. Now he made me uncomfortable.
He got off at Ringwood.
Three stations later I fell out into the sweet evening air and observed something strange. Two city bound trains were front to back on the other platform opposite, twelve carriages in all. People were picking there way up along the track to the platform, clearly not happy. I leaned into their conversations trying to gauge what happened.
A snarled snippit presented itself.
" …….yeah, some dickhead has jumped from the Ringwood pedestrian bridge …………….."
I climbed my steps in silence.

the drone


Melbourne, Australia

  • Artist
  • Artwork Comments 5

Artist's Description

Behavioural psychologists will tell you that Friday evenings are the new ’Saturday night ’. Emotions tend to be more haywire for some reason. Probably something to do with our busy work lives. Who knows?

Artwork Comments

  • Anne van Alkemade
  • Melissa Vowell
  • mick8585
  • peter
  • mick8585
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

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