Homeward

Beers after work. After a couple, it was Sarah, JJ, Stuart and me left standing. We demolished a couple of bottles of red wine (which I should avoid) and I ended up on the last train home—this time, White City and then to Wimbledon via Earls Court. The last train to Raynes Park entered the station as I arrived. I thought a ChatGPT poem would sum up the evening.

The workday ends, the evening unfolds,
With beers and banter, as stories are told.
The clock strikes late, but we carry on,
The laughter lingers though time has gone.
A rush for the platform, the last train I claim,
Homeward I ride, with the night in my frame.