Commuting Tales My morning train trundles across bridges and above canals. This morning I noticed that a number of narrow boats seem to be moured permanently in an inlet very close to the city centre. I watched as one of the inhabitants, a middle aged woman, stepped from the inside and stretched on the roof of the boat. On the edge of the canal a 'garden' had been set up: big red garden bench; kitchen equipment; child's swings. Seems like the perfect life. Of course, I'd need somewhere to plug in my modem...

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