Sometimes I’ll just pause in the airport or a train station, and simply watch the world go by. Usually armed with headphones and sunglasses that obviously render me invisible, I won’t stare, but I love people watching in London through bite-size glimpses and making up all kinds of tales that are completely improbable.
As I type this, it’s almost rush hour at a busy London station, and a very sweet middle-aged man stands waiting just outside the ticket barriers. Dressed in denim and a timeworn leather jacket, his salt and pepper hair is combed just so and his shoes are shined perfectly.
