I take a moment to bid farewell to the world inside my mind. If perception is reality then mine would never be the same, never again, in all of eternity would this moment be here.
I savour the second, breathing it into my memory. The grand hotel on the corner, Victorian I believe, all copper in the walls and turqoise on the roofs, like a doll's house. Never again will these people be leaving it like they are right now, the cups of coffee warming the business mens hands will never again slosh about as the check their watches despite knowing that they are on time. The european lady on the corner will never again need to fluster from one pedestrian to the other looking for Oxford street, with her dark hair all a disshevelled and her make-up pasted thick.
And outside the hotel, a beautiful sight! A big red double decker bus. Nothing impressive for me, I'm so accustomed to them, defying physics in terms of size, speed and balance that I fail to appreciate the fun that was surely being had by the droplets of water as the soared from the shallow puddle in it's path, never again to return.
And the people crossing at the lights! I never stop to wonder at the comedy of them, tapping their feet in impaitience. (Or in the case of one special looking young man the music of the mind.) I don't think to laugh at how when one of them deems the road safe enough the others start in blind panic, and toy with the idea of following this little rebellion. In this case they are led by a rather red faced mother, going somewhere with a pram, and looking very unhappy about it. I don't what what 'it' is exactly, but 'it' will never happen again, not in the same way, not today, thats for sure.
And though I so normally allow this moment to pass in time, this time, this once, I noticed it go. I stopped for a moment and I looked at my world; I took it in for as long as I could.
And yet, I turn around, to continue on my way, my mind clinging to the image as it swims out of my vision until no more remains, And I rush to catch my train.