Train to Ladywell

What crossroad am I approaching? London Bridge towards the National Rail Southeastern train surely.  Are my considerations haunting me? I can hear foolish gossip.  The wick on a wax candle burns until its finale. Am I at my wicks end-- setting fire to the paper airplanes circling Westminster? Another train passes by.  “This one yours?” asked the middle-aged conductor. “No,” I … Continue reading Train to Ladywell