The God-botherer on the morning train is, not exactly shouting, but she certainly is getting through my headphones, no matter how loud I turn up the music.
"The people on that train, before they died, they didn't know they were going to meet Jesus when they were reading their papers, when they were looking at their smartphones," she says, barely able to contain her disdain.
But then, on the evening commute, music once again in my ears, here comes another, or is it the same woman? "Oh, Lord Jesus Christ, come and bring these people to your eternal love," she shouts, but, when I turn around in the crowded compartment, nobody seems to be speaking, and I wonder if I'm just hearing things.
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