kin

London Underground trains rattle and rumble along dark tunnels and its fun to look at the distorted reflections of passengers on the curved windows opposite. Sometimes, out of the corner of my eye I see someone knitting and have a mini jolt of excitement! Thrilling! What are they making? Only to discover, on furtive second glance, that they are untangling headphones. Mixed with a heart sink of disappointment is laughter at myself because this has happened on countless occasions. I'm tuned into the makers, the menders, the stitchers, subconsciously searching for kin, as we all are.