It was strange to think that she'd miss rush-hour. As Sacha got on the tram at the end of the day, having watched as two previous trams had passed by, both of them so full that people almost fell out when the doors opened, she was filled with an inexplicable sentimentality about the experience.

Which was no experience at all, really: having her face in some guy's shoulder; having her arm twisted behind her because she had to contort herself just to try to grab a hand-hold; despite that hand-hold almost falling over when the tram suddenly lurched to a halt, and having her fall broken only by the fact that the tram was so full that it was literally impossible to fall anywhere. Somebody's briefcase jammed into the back of her leg and she winced silently: there was no point making noise or fussing about it, there was nothing anybody could do.

Yet there was a commonality of human experience in this end-of-the-week crush that left Sacha feeling bizarrely comforted. No-one was having fun here - but they were all not having fun together. Or, if not exactly together, then at least in close proximity. Too close, true, but that was just how it was.

Before she moved to Melbourne it would have been impossible for Sacha to imagine herself having such fond regard for a crowd of strangers. Perhaps Melbourne had softened her, the ease of life in the flat city taking the edges of her personality; perhaps she'd just got older, and this was what happened. Would the same happen in London? Would she age there, would she find the crowds there even more of a comfort? Or would she be alienated?

Well, that was assuming she even stayed in London. She doubted she would. There was nothing more miserable than hearing an Australian just back from London talking about how much money they'd made, with the unspoken implication being that they'd spent nearly every waking minute in some strip-lit office and had never even gone beyond the bounds of the U.K. She wasn't going to be one of those people. For one thing, from what she understood there weren't the jobs to go around any more.

The tram lurched again and she stumbled once more, and when she righted herself and apologised futilely to the person in front of her whose body had once again broken her fall, she realised what she was doing: she was thinking of the future. She was planning her new life. She was preparing herself for an adventure - or at the very least an experience.

It was the first time she'd done that in - she couldn't even remember how long. It was thrilling.