The door stutters, slowly then open.

‘Tickets from Dore and Totley…’

Headphones on, two bag barricade; a tap on the shoulder, ‘Your ticket, please, sir?’

Trolley rolls, a girl stumbles, crockery rattling in its cage.

‘How do you take it, sir?’

Jug poised; a hand practised, steady.

‘White, but only a splash, ta.’

‘Madam?’

Absorbed, unaware, staring, field after field, a pile of books at her fingertips, and then, surprised.

‘Oh! Just two sugars for me, thanks, love.’

Smiles all round, maybe a word or two, then down to their distractions.

Inspired by a train journey from Sheffield to St Pancras.