The man in familiar Orange Hi-viz and I are the two occupants of this suburban train carriage. He has his left finger on the trigger. In his right hand, the familiar chux. He avoids eye contact as he slowly makes his way towards me, shooting germs with pi

The man in familiar Orange Hi-viz and I are the two occupants of this suburban train carriage. He has his left finger on the trigger. In his right hand, the familiar chux. He avoids eye contact as he slowly makes his way towards me, shooting germs with pink fluid that squirts out onto the yellow & grey surfaces. I'm reassured rather than worried even though I'm hearing Psycho-like tense suspenseful music in my head. At the next station, a lady commuter hesitantly steps down the carriage's stairs, as if taken aback by the attendant in hi-viz. With the stern but polite voice of a school principal, the Sydney Trains familiar voice asks us to cough or sneeze carefully for the safety of other passengers.

A young man with mask hanging below chin makes a sudden appearance, rushes in and fails to sit on the green marker as instructed by voice of authority. He throws himself on a seat immediately behind our new fellow commuter. I'm alarmed. What if?! God Forbid. We three commuters adopt the familiar detached look and look down into our mobile devices. Suddenly a phone rings. We're entertained by the young man's conversation. He mutters something about returning to normal. I can't help thinking about what 'normal' really is and will be. Perhaps it's a function of the cultural norm as well as the times. i.e., what Sydney people typically do, hear ... and that's clearly changing as I tap away. Oops.. got to get off.