Not-so-much-of-a rush hour

The morning trains from West Norwood are always late. They usually don't have a reason either, not even "The dog ate the rails." Ah well, at least I have a good book and a very understanding boss. I know I should take an earlier train, but sometimes that arrives when my usual train should have graced the platform. Perhaps I should stop being just a fairweather commuter cyclist (but I'd have to leave the good book in the saddlebag).