There’s just no air on the tube sometimes.

On my way home tonight, at the end of a day when I worked and worked myself up over different matters, I took an overcrowded train from Camden to London Bridge.

There was no room to throw a needle and I kept my head down playing on my phone in search of privacy and space. I found a seat and kept playing when I noticed the game wasn’t enough of a distraction from the stuffiness and lack of space around.

Random pieces of news filled my mind. I started thinking about migrants who suffocate to death in air-deprived trucks, African girls who are sold and transported into the human trafficking industry in Europe in a container, and farm animals that spend their lives on a surface not bigger than an A4 sheet of paper.

Saddened, claustrophobic, impatient and irritated, I could not wait for the train to stop at London Bridge and burst through the doors. Eventually, I thankfully did.

Others are not so lucky.

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