Again on the train I am surrounded by bubbles of personal space. This train is not quite as packed as the last, however, with everyone seeming to fit in quite comfortably. There is a drowsy atmosphere. Again it is a Monday, people have been torn from their weekend luxuries and hurled into the daily grind. One four seater hosts two sleepers on one side, a schoolgirl on the aisle sure and a middle aged man by the window. The latter is resting against his knuckle, which repeatedly slips from the ledge it rests on, dragging itself from his forehead to his cheek in a way that looks like he is punching himself in his sleep. The schoolgirl sits with her head thrown back, unmoving in her slumber, with earphones in each ear. Perhaps she is not asleep at all, and is only deeply entranced by the music she is listening to. Opposite them on the window side there sits a young man with green headphones on, who hasn’t shifted his gaze from a single point out the window for the entire duration of the train ride. His music seems to keep him persistently upright and rigid. The train shakes a little more ferociously than it has on the trip thusfar and suddenly this drowsy nook of the train is jolted awake, now faced with the necessity of assuming the Monday identities that their weekend is still so desperately trying to pull them away from.

The film: A four seater on a train, a glimpse into what each is internally experiencing intercut with their joined experience on the train. The dreams of the schoolgirl and the middle aged man will be displayed, as well as the thoughts of the others. The train will play a part throughout, waking the passengers up every now and again and forcing these focal characters to momentarily leave their internal worlds and acknowledge one another.