Melbourne train packed

though there's a seat

right next to me, the window one,

the one in full perforating sun.

I am typing.

Strident light

turns screen to worthless white out

so...

I am not being deliberately rude,

blocking available seat,

simply immersed

in the narration as I write.

So it is that I become aware

far too late

that I have irreparably offended a worthy nana.

Husband having seating self comfortably behind me

in a single, uncouplable seat,

wife is angrily dark-angel-hovering,

making un-cryptic comments

that I simply have not

heard.

Fine neck hairs

have risen in self-defence, in response

to prunish lips,

but mind elated at word confluence

has chosen to umbrella-fend off all distraction.

I pause

to think

of word

and ears

suddenly focus.

I hear husband's wavering, hopeful comment:

'There's a seat just there, dear.'

Reply launched, breaks speed of sound: 'No!'

Then tone of martyrdom, rumble-grumbling:

'There's a seat

all the way

up the front.

I shall have to

go there!'

And she does. Stumping

surprisingly energetic for an octogenarian.

I look up,

a little dreamy-dazed,

wondering what has caused the irritated reaction,

having only just surfaced,

eyes glazed, pre-occupied.

Scrolling back through vague impressions

and clicking in

each piece of evidence like numbers in a combination,

the lock aligns, safe swings open...

Oh!

Um!

Naughty me -

unknowingly annoying Nana,

hmmhmmhmmm - Oh,

well...