From below it’s as if the people are moved by magic, carried across my field of view in ordered lines. Some gaze around glum-mouthed, others stand straight with purpose, phone to ear. Prams travel upwards along with trolleys in this midday insular domed world. On they go towards consumer destinations. Branded bags of many colours pass by me grasped by their eager purchasers. Some people are content to be passengers, carried along, but others quicken their own journey, striding upwards with arms swinging.
Life is like an escalator, sometimes we surrender ourselves to its pace, and sometimes we fight for control, assert our will; stamp our style on the journey. At times we are hesitant to step on or hop off, afraid of stumbling and making a fool of ourselves – but ultimately we are all heading in the same direction, no matter how we travel the distance.