It was the middle of winter, and when it is, the train is usually freezing cold, and I always wish I wore more layers. I get on the train on the first stop so I almost always get a seat, even in peak hour. A few stops into the journey, a man ran onto the train just before the doors closed and once he was on, he stood squashed next to everyone else standing. He was breathing very heavily, clearly out of the breath and sweat dripping from his forehead and all down his face into the collar of his white work shirt. The juxtaposition was interesting between him sweating profusely, clearly in a lot of discomfort, and with the rest of the passengers shivering and in multiple layers.

The other day I was walking to a cafe in my area to meet a friend and on the wall of a shop next to an alley way, I saw a KONY 2012 sticker. It was almost a surreal moment, filled with confusion. I’d hardly thought about this massive yet short-lived movement since it happened. But the sticker looked new, as though it had just stuck there but I don’t know if they would even make them anymore.

About a year ago I went to a dog park with my mum and my two dogs. In a usually empty car park at this hour, it seemed strange seeing two cars right next to each other with all of its lights off. Even though the interior lights of the car were not on, the car park itself is dimly lit, but just enough to see two figures in the back seat of the car furthest away from the entrance of the car park. The car was moving slightly, indicating that they were moving around a lot inside. It seemed like quite a weird occurrence on a weeknight in the car park of a suburban park, but as I thought about the situation more, I realized that the fact that there were two cars there means that they came separately, with this possibly pointing to an affair. Or maybe it could be a married couple trying to mix things up and do something different, with the possibility of getting caught. We did a lap of the park and came back and both the cars had left.

I was on my way home uni, and catching the train home in peak hour is never really a pleasurable task, especially when you’ve just been fired. I was catching the train home from the city, lucky to get a seat, when a woman sat across from me with a cardboard box full of personal belongings sitting in her lap, with a seemingly upset look on her fact. After about 20 minutes of staring lifelessly out the window of the train, tears started sliding down her face, which should a pure sadness and no manic sorrow, because there was no change in expression or noise coming from her. When her stop came, she sighed and stood up with her box and walked out.