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Mind The Gap... Stand Clear of The Doors

The stench slapped me in the face. Burning rubber. The screech was like a bad dentist on a violin. The hot breeze flew up my nostrils. Stale air. The duh-duh-duh duh-duh-duh made me feel sick. My crown leaned against the cold glass. Too hard to get comfortable on. My neck was stiffening up.

I took a deep breath, tried to relax and, eventually, dozed off.

I woke up with a sudden start. I'd missed my stop! No. It WAS this one. I jumped up. I passed out. A whitey. My chin smacked the platform - my feet and legs stayed in the tube train. The doors kept opening and slamming against my waist.


The voice of the Angel Islington spoke to me softly.

- It's ok. I'm here to help. The ambulance is on its way. Can you hear me?

I opened my eyes. It was my next-door-but-one neighbour.

She put the cannabis resin in her pocket so the police wouldn't find it. She gave it back to me after we got out of casualty. I was grateful, but not grateful enough to attend her bible reading class that Tuesday.

Story by:

Phil Doran

submitted at 8:55pm

18 May 2009

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