I nervously board the tube train; I am on edge as it's only been two days since the the London tube bombing.
As the train leaves the station I take a moment to look at my fellow passengers; I see that they are also uneasy, their eyes dart around the carriage like birds alert for predators.
The train pulls into the next station, the doors slide open and a large man boards our carriage, he is carrying a bulky cardboard box.
The box is cream in colour, it lacks logo or decoration, it's roughly 6 inches deep and two-foot square. He holds the box with both hands, his manner suggests that the box contains something of value or fragility.
He sits in the empty seat next to me, the box balanced on his lap, the train moves slowly out of the station.
Within seconds the man begins to fiddle with the edge of the box; he looks a little uneasy, apprehensive.
The collective level of anxiety appears to go up a notch, some passengers start to look physically uncomfortable, the 'eye darting' becomes more rapid, more obvious.
I find that my eyes are drawn to the large white box on the man's lap, I watch his fingers start to work away at the small piece of tape that holds the lid in place.
He finally opens the lid of his box, it reveals a tray of fresh cream cakes.
He turns towards me, smiles and asks if I would like one, I accept. He then offers the other passengers a cake; a few join me in accepting his offer.
The tension immediately evaporates, the distrust fades away and perhaps, for a short while, belief in human kindness has been restored.
Posted: by Leeroy.
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