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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.

MIND THE GAP... STAND CLEAR OF THE DOORS...

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

magicphil@btinternet.com

submitted at 8:55pm

18 May 2009

Phil Doran's web:

http://thespaghettifaction.blogspot.com