Friday, 20 April 2012
And on the train heading up to Waterloo there was a family seated behind me all the way from Swanvale Halt. Included was a young girl all of 13 in eyeliner, big boots, gappy black and purple leggings and a black crushed velvet skirt,who sat reading a book whose title I couldn't see but was all black with a skull-and-crossbones on the cover. She did my old heart good, could she but have known. If only I'd been able to say some encouraging words.