tickets illustration

“Tickets, please.”

He’s got a hangover and a half. Eyes look like piss-holes in the snow. Staring out the window like he’s got stuff on his mind, but I bet there’s nothing going on in his head except him wondering when he can have his next drink.

“Tickets, please.”

She’s on her way to see a dying relative. Glassy eyes, on the brink of tears. Extra large coffee in front of her and bags under her eyes which says she hasn’t slept all night. No make-up ‘cos she’s probably too worried about smudging it. Wearing all grey and white; it’s as close as you can get to mourning attire when it’s for a person who isn’t actually dead.

“Tickets, please.”

Ah. A writer. She may as well have it written on her t-shirt. She probably does, just to make sure everyone really knows it. Laptop and tablet and notebook on the go all at once, letting everyone know how creative she is. But I see you, lady, scrolling through Instagram on your phone, looking at pretty pictures of books instead of writing one.

“Tickets, please.”

Another one on her phone. She’s Facebook stalking someone. An ex, perhaps. Scrolling carefully so she doesn’t hit Like on a photo from six years ago. I know her game. Unrequited love, or something to that effect. Maybe she’s running away from it.

“Tickets, please.”

Steri-Strips on his brow. Interesting. He doesn’t look the type to get in a fight. Not brave enough. Some kind of accident, probably. Whatever it is has shaken him up; he can’t stop his hands quivering. Daft lad.

“Tickets, please.”

This is a man that has seen some shit. I would not like to be in his head right now.

“Tickets, please.”

Is it the dog that stinks or the bloke? They both look like they just crawled out of a rancid bog. Glad I’m not sat next to them.

“Tickets, please.”

“Do you have any other words in your vocabulary, mate?”

I won’t entertain you with an answer to that, mate. Self-absorbed funny man that isn’t funny. Probably thinks he’s a stand-up comic. I’m glad he’s sat next to that dog.

“Tickets, please.”

This one… Well. I don’t know what to think of this one. She’s…

“One of a kind?”

How did she…?

“You fancy yourself a bit of a mind reader as well as a ticket inspector, hm?”

I don’t know what to say to her.

“Then don’t say anything, my dear, and you just keep checking those tickets.”

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