Paint a train

Sneaking through the tunnels,broke in through the rusty gate up town. Walking together yet we arent speaking,we are to caught up in the moment,the adrenaline. The sound of a rat scurrying over the now quiet tracks. It's enough to halt us both. But there's a light at the end,not a light of hope or life but of a blank canvas.Run. And there they are,3 trains sleeping next to one another,No one else around. We hurry now since the drivers will be back at 4.00 am . Unzip the bag,overflows with cans and caps. Qucik,grab,crack,press,spray,feel.



'Two travel cards'
Waiting,all day spent on that train. Then it flashes by,our now compplete canvas. We arent the only ones looking but we are the only ones that saw it happen. The paint unfold on to the train,and i don't care what any one says, Seeing your work like that is beautiful.



Short story,Murray Gray.