“Though you break your heart, men will go on as before.”
His 18.36 to Crewe cancelled,
Marcus Aurelius noted only the illogicality
of the announcement coming through
The queue for Train Information
snaked along the station
like Hannibal’s troops down a mountain pass,
spasmodically butted by traversing passengers,
brash as goats.
Mindful of inner strength,
Marcus Aurelius stepped back,
a neat cubit’s length.
The computer screen a fascination,
he commended the duty girl’s operation,
her agile hands, expressionless economy of
‘This is the only information I have.’
Marcus Aurelius ascertained
his next permissible train
as the 20.01.
Inside Cafe Nero, in seated position,
he mastered desire for his Chester connection;
averted his eyes from a beggar; shunned pity –
emotional giving so morally unfitting;
approved proud football fans’ swift nemesis:
brusque police escort, straight off the premises;
puzzled the sense of a passer-by’s wit:
‘These trains ‘ave gotta be a joke, innit?’
At 19.55, with measured pace,
he duly proceeded towards Platform 8.
The amber-lit board flashed new information:
The 20.01’s cancellation.
At that point,
Julia D McGuinness is a writer, counsellor and writing for wellbeing practitioner based near Chester. She has written 4 non-fiction books and her poetry has been published online. Her first poetry collection, Chester City Walls, was published last year by Poetry Space.
2 thoughts on “A Stoic at Birmingham New Street by Julia D McGuinness”
Oscar Windsor-Smith says
This piece appealed to me on several levels. Arguably dealing with modern life does require stoicism (at least of those blessed/cursed with imagination and experience of different times) even more than earlier, simpler eras. That said, you can’t beat a good old fashioned bout of ‘losing it’ to vent tension and restore karma. Thanks, Julia
Julia McGuinness says
Thanks for your kind comment, Oscar. May you never be left forlorn on a station platform!