Isn’t it weird how we can sit next to someone on the tube for thirty minutes and be totally oblivious to who they are? We think: where are they going? Are they happy right now? I want to spontaneously strike up a conversation with a randomer. Albeit, I’d run the risk of attracting some uncanny glances- which isn’t a good thing on public transport. Maybe next week I’ll ask that bald fellow where he’s off to. Or if he minds me craning my neck towards him slightly to peak at his firmly folded newspaper. We seem to share the same route. Strange how paths can intertwine for only a small fraction of the week- our lives even- and we become so familiar as strangers. Strangers that know each other so well, yet so little.