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Tube Tales

I took pictures of people while they weren’t looking on the tube home last night.

Specimen 1: Aussie girls going home after working restaurant shift:


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Specimen 2: Italian couple talking Italian. She had trout lips and very expensive leather gloves and they were fascinated with a passenger who had a doughnut in a clear carrier bag:


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Specimen 3: A very glam long-legged woman reading a catalogue trying not to laugh:


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Specimen 4: A man reading the koran. He was with mates who weren’t into what he was doing. He was also with his much younger brother who should have been in bed!


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There is a picture I didn’t take out of respect (but wanted to) on the way into town. A painfully thin and obviously dying man sitting next to an also painfully thin man off his face on very strong drugs. The contrast was startling. Both men dying but at very different rates and brought together in a totally random formation in a city of millions. Who would have thought that they would have ended up sitting next to each other – both I am sure on very separate personal journeys. On the one hand a terminally ill man having probably one of his last night’s out with his partner. He looked so thin and weak. His new thin shoulders swamped and awkward under his old, healthily-shouldered overcoat. I looked down and his shoes were very new and hardly worn. Brown and plain but filled with the most magnificently pink socks. A hint to a vibrance of the soul that still lurked as the remainder was being cruelly sucked away. I wanted to congratulate him on his choice of socks but he looked like he didn’t want anyone to see him. I wanted to ask if I could take a picture of his shoes and socks as I knew this said so much about him but didn’t out of respect. When he got up I could see why the shoes didn’t look worn. Each step was very light and the foot placed with the least pressure possible. I could see the effort for him to walk was extraordinary and as he left the carriage I wondered how much it must of been for him to dress himself that evening. I could see his live determination as if it were fizzing. I imagine he won’t be able to do that very soon. The man in the pink socks. I wish him well.

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