Dean Walik

Moments on a Train

I entered the station, cold, wet, and dripping from the apparent typhoon that had begun earlier that morning. Already bothered, I glance up at the train board and lo and behold, I see my train and a big seven attached to it. How? I thought... how is it possible? Actually, 'how' isn't the right word, but 'why the fuck' are three better words, distinctly apt words that attempt to describe my disdain at TFL. Why the fuck is my train so bloody late. I look at the digital clock and again at my watch... bloody hell it's nearly 7:30.