Sophie woke up late, although as this was the normal time she had woken up for months one could make the argument that Sophie woke up at the usual time.
For that extra thirty minutes of sleep she was required to sacrifice a more relaxed morning routine. She would still do all the things that she would normally do, just a lot quicker.
On waking up Sophie would slowly pad to her kitchen to make her first coffee of the morning. It was the most important cup of coffee of the entire day. When she had contemplated eliminating parts of her morning routine for more time in bed this first coffee would not even be in consideration for elimination; it was an immovable necessity.
As she waited impatiently for the kettle to boil she would distract herself by opening her Twitter app. Normally there would only be a handful of notifications for Sophie to navigate but last night she did something rather impulsively silly. She posted a selfie.
Her motivation for doing so was because she felt good. She was happy and rather than describe her happiness in 280 characters or less she thought it would just be easier to post a picture of her smiling. Look… there’s me… happy.
Her closest followers all reacted with likes and compliments which increased Sophie’s elated mood. Yet that quickly diminished as she read some of the other comments which had taken a rather different approach to being complimentary.
She had ignored the more leering responses but in doing so this had been taken by the unknown contributor as painful rejection who now eloquently dissected Sophie’s entire character by calling her a “thirsty teasing bitch”.
Reading the word ‘thirsty’ caused Sophie to stare at her kettle that was still obstinately boiling. She tutted at the kettle, quickly realising the futility of showing disapproval to an inanimate object in the ridiculous hope that this criticism would make it want to work quicker next time.
Returning to her phone she noted that she had quite a few Direct Messages. Amongst those inexplicably just wanting to say ‘Hi’ there were some more colourful contributions.
Some had seen Sophie’s fully clothed selfie as the perfect opportunity to become some low budget DH Lawrence and seduce Sophie with well trodden erotica.
“Why’s your cock angry, dude?”
Others, however, despite being allured by Sophie’s smiley face felt it was simply necessary to get to the point. “I want to fuck you” stated one response. Concerned that Sophie may have further questions there was a follow up message that read “With this?” Should Sophie also have the slightest curiosity what ‘this’ was he sent a picture of his penis, helpfully next to a drinks can should Sophie need a size comparison.
It wasn’t really the thing she needed to be seeing first thing in the morning, especially on an empty stomach.
It prompted Sophie to briefly ponder what he was hoping to achieve by sending a picture of his penis. Should the sight of some flaccid meat laying mournfully across an aluminium can have aroused burning feelings of lust inside her? Was he hoping his penis was the passport not only to her heart but to between her legs? That she would respond with;
“Well I did have a busy day planned at work but seeing that your cock almost reaches halfway to a monster energy drink can I have called in sick and want you round here now big boy”
With her coffee finally made and despite only just having got out of bed Sophie sat down and turned on the TV. The morning news show she watched was only there for background noise, Sophie got her news by scrolling Twitter and reading people reacting to the news, that way she could know what the most important topics of the day were.
As her TV fizzed to life she caught the end of the local news bulletin. There had been another attack near the local park where Sophie lived. A young woman out jogging was the latest victim. However, this topic was not the focus of everyone’s attention this morning. Something else had happened. Someone had painted the words “See Me Now?” on Churchill’s statue and people were angry.
The dark pink hue of the tv presenter seemed to be a visual embodiment of the anger that was spreading on social media over this incident. For a full five minutes he spat out his condemnation of such an atrocity before interviewing another man who was equally as angry.
Sophie recognised this man. She thought he might be a politician but had never seen him in the House of Commons, yet he held very strong opinions on a lot of subjects. Whilst he ranted about Britain’s heritage being destroyed and history being erased Sophie searched Twitter to see if there was any update over the woman who was attacked.
With her coffee drunk she took a shower, brushing her teeth at the same time. Hurriedly she got dressed and was then clip clopping her way to the tube station. She slowed down as she walked past the park where the attack had happened the. Apart from a few extra police officers around everything was as it usually was.
Sophie grabbed a copy of the Metro as she walked through the entrance of the tube station. She knew she would not have the opportunity to read it as it would be too busy; she’d barely have enough room to breathe let alone turn the pages. She quickly glanced at the front page which led with the story of the defacing of Churchill’s statue (later in her mid morning coffee break she would read a small column on page 4 about the woman being attacked).
There had been an earlier signal failure on the Northern Line and so the platform was heaving with already weary commuters. She only had a few stops to travel and was well used to being crammed into a metal box with what seemed to be most of London.
Unsurprisingly all the seats were taken and she managed to find herself a small pocket where she stood clinging onto the pole. As the train stopped at different stations more people clambered on, jostling for whatever position they could find. Within a few stops Sophie found herself sandwiched between the pole and a tall man.
The man’s groin rhythmically rubbed up against Sophie’s behind as the carriage gently rocked to its next destination.
Maybe the gentleman felt as awkward as she did. Perhaps he was just as uncomfortable but whilst Sophie tried to move he seemed to be in no rush to adjust his stance, leaving Sophie just to hope that was his phone rubbing up against her.
She would soon be at her stop and tried not to give it any thought but she did muse on what perhaps he might be thinking. Was he frozen in awkwardness, his mind reminding him that he is rubbing his cock up against a woman he doesn’t know yet offering no solution to stop that from happening.
Or was he getting a thrill out of it? Was his brain fantasising that he was in some sordid club. The pole that Sophie clung to morphing into one of those dancing poles for her to twerk and gyrate against. She was no longer a stranger just travelling to work but a dancer that was happy to dry hump him to orgasm. She supposed she’d know the answer to that if she found £20 slid in between the waistband of her skirt.
Eventually Sophie arrived at her destination and was relieved to be away from her claustrophobic surroundings and into the spacious air of outdoors. It was a brief walk to where she worked and she passed a number of coffee shops.
As part of her ‘extra time in bed’ routine she had swopped breakfast at home to popping in to the shop nearest to her office to grab something quickly to eat at her desk.
The building next to it was having some renovations and scaffolding adorned the Victorian exterior.
“Way-Hey! Love. You’re alright”
Sophie instinctively looked up stupidly thinking it might have been someone she knew. There she saw a man she didn’t know in a hard hat and hi-vis jacket looking down at her.
“You fancy a real man, sweetheart” he said before turning to his colleagues and laughing.
Whilst Sophie was old enough to realise fairy tales do not exist and romance as depicted in movies were unrealistic she was also experienced enough to know this was not the most seductive of pick up lines.
Once again she found herself confused as to her expected response. Did he think she would say “Well I was going to just get a bagel but hey throw down a ladder and I’ll come up and ride you”
The workman was now joined by his colleagues who chipped in with comments about Sophie’s appearance making it clear to express how that made them feel. She simply put her head down and went into the shop.
Having avoided any further amorous advances from workmen Sophie was able to sit peacefully at her desk. She finished the final remnants of her bagel while flicking through the pages of a report she had compiled in readiness for the Strategy Meeting today.
Sophie had spent the evening reviewing it and had purposely not started to watch that show on Netflix everyone was talking about. Had she done so her desire to binge watch as many episodes as she could would have meant she was ill prepared for the meeting. This was an important meeting and she wanted to ensure that she was fully ready.
The meeting room was large with a glass oval desk prominent in the centre. Random Art Deco paintings made the walls seem less sparse and at the far end was a large LCD screen.
All Heads of Division were attending this meeting, in total seven people made themselves comfortable around the table. Sophie, the only female in this group, took the available seat furthest from where her Boss stood at the screen.
He introduced the meeting trying to say as many random letters as he could with enough confidence that those present in the meeting would nod along like they understood – “KPI, GDPR etc”.
His talk, accompanied by a 100 slide PowerPoint presentation, was littered with talking points for the rest of the ensemble to muse over. Every time Sophie went to offer a comment someone else would interject and begin making the point she was about to say. The meeting lasted for two hours and within that time Sophie reckoned she had spoke for about two minutes of it.
The rest of the work day went quickly and soon it was time for her to leave and go home. Sophie planned on getting a take away, open a bottle of wine and binge watch that Netflix show.
As she was putting on her coat her phone chimed. It was a message from her friend seeing if she wanted to go for a quick drink. Sophie pondered this request. She had sold herself on the idea of a relaxing evening but then imagined the crush of the tube as everyone also rushed back for their few hours of downtime. She could do without being rubbed up against twice in a day.
It was settled. She would have a quick drink with her friend and get the tube home when it was little less busy and still have time to settle down and watch that show.
Sophie enjoyed the company of her friend and they shared a bottle of wine as the gossiped and laughed. They even got a bite to eat which meant Sophie would not require that takeaway after all. Just Netflix and wine it will be.
The bar was quite busy as was usual but everyone kept themselves to themselves. A few men looked over but none chose to insert themselves into the spare seats next to Sophie and her friend. They were just allowed to have fun chatting in their own little bubble.
Such was their enjoyment they could have easily made an evening of it but it was mid week and Sophie did not want to be getting the late tube home. So after a few hours in the company of her friend they kissed each other goodbye. Sophie watched her friend walk off in the opposite direction before she turned to walk to the tube station.
“Oi luv… show us your tits” said a man who must have been in his twenties sitting on a table outside smoking a cigarette; he laughed and high fived his friend in celebration.
Sophie ignored him and carried on walking to the station. She mused upon the curiosity of the question. We live in a digital age where if you feel the urge to look at breasts you can. In fact there are so many different types of breasts you could feast your eyes on.
Pictures of breasts, videos of breasts, gifs of breasts, even animated breasts. Never in the entirety of human history has being able to look at breasts been so accessible. So what was so special about Sophie’s breasts that demanded such immediate attention?
She didn’t think they were that special, they were just your normal breasts. Men had seen them before and whilst they seemed excited at the sight had never complimented her on them being ‘The Greatest Breasts Ever”. Sophie stopped thinking about this as she made her way inside the station and down on to the platform.
There was only a handful of people in the carriage. It was that midway point of the evening where either people had already gone home or were still out for the night. Sophie sat down in an empty row of seats.
After one stop a man got on and despite the availability of other seats sat directly opposite Sophie. He leaned back, spread his legs and just stared at her. Sophie looked away but curious as to whether he was still looking led her to glance back. Each time she did she was met by his piercing stare. Although it was only for a few seconds each time made her feel more uncomfortable.
She scanned the carriage to see who would be around to help her if this guy suddenly pounced. She spied a couple making out and an old lady concentrating on crocheting what looked liked a deformed panda. Whilst Sophie didn’t think they would be much use their presence still brought a slight wave of comfort that she was not alone.
She contemplated getting off at the next stop and changing carriages but this unexpected fear that had grown in her seemed to glue her to the seat. Besides she did not know if there were more weird staring men in the other carriages.
Sophie spent the rest of the journey with her eyes down staring at her lap, inwardly flinching when the carriage lurched or rocked. Normally the journey home would go quite quickly but each station seemed to take an age to reach as if the driver was going as slow as he possibly could.
Finally she saw the welcoming sign of her home station. Sophie waited until the doors opened before she left her seat and exited just in case the man wanted to follow her. She paused on the platform, looking back at the carriage to see if he emerged.
The relief that he hadn’t was quickly replaced by the realisation that she was the only one on the platform. Walking to the exit her heels echoed off the tiled floor. A feeling of dread followed her and often Sophie looked around to make sure that was the only thing that was following her.
Eventually she emerged into the nighttime air only a mile away from her home. Away from the the hustle of Central London the streets were quieter and Sophie’s experience on the tube alerted to the eerie quietness of the night. It was dark but the row of street lights provided ample illumination.
She began her normal walk home but was alerted by the scuffing of footsteps behind her. She put her hand her pocket and made a fist round her keys as she tried to up the pace. But the footsteps became louder and closer.
Could she run? She was about half a mile away from home and doubted she would get so far. Her legs felt heavy. Was it that man? Had he followed her? She looked everywhere but behind her hoping that some glimmer of salvation would appear but she was alone. The streets were empty. Just her and whoever it was approaching behind her.
She instinctively stopped. Fear not allowing her to take one more step. Should she scream? Her throat was dry , her legs felt like they were going to give away. The street silent, not even a passing car just the footsteps that moved upon her and….
Went straight past her. She took a deep breath and waited for a man in a long coat to disappear up the road. She cursed herself for being silly but that did nothing to dispel the feeling of dread that still surrounded her. She just wanted to get home, open the wine and watch Netflix.
Sophie noticed that she had stopped just by the entrance to the park which is where the recent attack had taken place. The relevance of her geographical position did nothing to calm her mood.
“ ‘ere darlin’ you gotta light”
Sophie hadn’t heard the car pull up along side her. A young man of know more than 19 years old dressed in a hoodie leaned out of the passenger window.
“No sorry. I don’t smoke” Sophie replied as politely as possible
“We’re going to a party. Wanna come?” the young man persisted.
“No… thank you” Sophie replied as she began walking but the car slowly followed her.
“Where’d ya live? We can drop you home?”
“It’s literally just up there. Thanks”
Sophie could feel her heart pounding. It was literally not up there and she had at least 10 minutes more to go before she could finally get home and relax. The car continued to slowly follow her route.
She thought about her options and concluded the only thing she could do is cut through the park. They would not be able to follow and there was a small gate just on the right hand side that she could go through. Normally she wouldn’t go through the park at night but equally she could not have these guys escort her home.
Just as she was about to turn and walk back to entrance to the park the young man shouted “Oh fuck you. You cold bitch” and the car wheel spinned off and out of sight.
Sophie’s heart was beating even faster now. With her hand shaking she pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contacts. She selected her sister’s number and pressed dial.
She had been meaning to call her sister who was due to give birth shortly and a baby shower had been planned for this weekend. Sophie would welcome the sound of her sister’s voice to accompany her the rest of the way home.
She put in her earphones and listened to the sound of the ringtone as she turned the corner.
Trevor woke up late but that was by design. It was his day off. He reached for the remote control and turned the small TV on his bedroom.
The news bulletin reported another attack near the park but he didn’t care about that. There was a far more important issue to be discussed.
Some woman historian had been trashing statues and he was looking forward to his favourite morning TV presenter absolutely tearing her and her woke views apart.
He grabbed his phone, there was bound to be some silly leftie already supporting her on Twitter and he wanted to get in quick with a reply.
Opening the app there was slight disappointment that none on the women he had messaged last night had responded. No worries, he’ll try again later.
Trevor peeked under his bedsheet to look at what he had woken up with and was impressed. He thought about taken a quick pic but a rudimentary look around the room he noted there was no drinks can so chose not to bother.
Shame that one definitely would have got a response.
He turned his attention back to the TV screen where a reporter was still discussing the latest attack.
“Who cares!” shouted Trevor “Get to the bit about the statues”.