Down on the Tube

I saw a mouse

Down on the tube

Whilst waiting for a train

Going south on the northern line

Packed tight we stood

Unmoving

(But for a shift of weight

A flick of hair

Or the odd furtive glance

That sometimes caught another)

Outwardly silent

(Beneath the background noise

To which we were accustomed)

Oblivious to the cacophony of other people’s thoughts

Deafened by our own

Staring intently

As every good commuter should

At the concave world

Of words and colour

(Did you know you can save

Up to 15% off local and international calls

With the click of a mouse?)

When something caught my eye

At first it was just the awareness of movement

That attracted my gaze

As a half-remembered thought

Or a face in the crowd

Brings the world to a momentary standstill

There it was again!

Snapped from my reverie by peripheral movement

That dissolved in foveal glare

Retreating from consciousness

Into the shadows

But even as every fixation

Demanded another

Something began to coalesce

Black on black

(Like the surface beneath the rails –

Paint pre-empting dirt)

Nose to the ground

Searching for food

It moved quickly

Describing swift tangents

Apparent randomness

Belying the economy of its search

The depth of its knowledge

(Acquired over a brief lifespan)

And as I looked down

I witnessed a master at work

Completely unaware

Of my attention

Or even my presence

(How strange to consider the consequence of a simple exchange)

When suddenly it stopped

Dead still

Snout raised

For the briefest of moments

While others checked their watches

Or peered into the blackness

I had no need 

I knew the train was coming

Even before the slight change of pressure

Followed by the impact of a wall of breath

The tearing, terrible scream of steel on steel

And the final illumination at the apex of the bend

I knew

But could not stop myself from looking

When I looked back the mouse was gone

And as the train burst rudely into the station

Two minutes ahead of the next

We stumbled in obligatory unison

Towards the doors

I don’t know what the others thought of -

Destinations, dreams, work or loved ones?

I thought of the space beneath my feet

- Hitherto undiscovered -

And the solace it gave one more resilient than I

 

Of course the mouse found no solace

It was I who found solace in the mouse

Without the imposition it was neither 

A dream nor a nightmare