Quite a few of the places I've lived in over the last decade have been right next to a train track.
In my second year at university, my bedroom was pretty much in contact with a railway bridge. I can remember trying to churn out words on an essay as the first train went past, reminding me that I’d worked through to 6am 😫
My flat in Willesden Green had the Jubilee Line running above ground at the end of the garden:
The scene above, taken 10 years ago, is remarkably similar to the situation in my current flat:
Anyway a few weeks back, just as I was heading to bed, a train pulled up at the end of the garden and stopped. I could just make out the voice of the driver over the tannoy. Perhaps I was the only one listening—the train seemed pretty empty.