TIMEOUT I was on my way into central London to meet with the accountants, a sunny summers day in a major city, and a Friday afternoon's exhaustion filled the people hanging on during those last few hours before they could officially declare the weekend started. There were other men in suits, like myself and office secretaries, chatting in secretive circles in the few small,but precious, leafy-green spots in Central London's financial district. The world kept turning. I headed as usual down past the Bank of England and made for the alleyways cutting minutes off the tourist times from point A to B, I arrived early at the accountants, pleased with myself. After the meeting I headed quickly towards Victoria tube Station, that great hub of transport that mixes up all the nationalities that London has to offer in one great spinning centrifuge then spits them out across the city to their homes, it was like a mini holiday sometimes passing through there and today was no exception, tourists, office-workers,youths, housewives and the almost unclassifiable zombies. That final group I am harsh in my appreciation, they are like you and me, but there seems to be no real life to them, nothing friendly behind the eyes, except the vague threat of violence should law and punishment fail, they are the only ones truly worth watching during daylight hours on the tube. After boarding my train out of London from Paddington I chose a seat in comfortable first class on the northward side, better to look over the farms and rolling fields of the English countryside. After the ticket inspector had made her first check and knowing I would be left in peace I set out the completed accounts and opened my newspaper. It is true to say that after most of the day had passed the newspapers morning headlines mostly turned out to be incomplete and never as “Loudly Accurate!†as the headlines proclaimed, seeing nothing of great scandal or interest. I folded my newspaper and took note of the man sitting opposite me, he did not look like he belonged in first class at all, unwashed,unkempt with a grey pallor and a drawn haggard face. Being somewhat flustered by this man's presence, not only being in the carriage but so close I made moves to pack my newspaper and paperwork away and head elsewhere under the pretence of “This is my stopâ€. I leaned over to pick up my completed accounts and saw him quickly snap his arm out and grab at my wrist, I jerked my arm back feeling alarmed and annoyed, I was about to argue at the man when he spoke. “Lookâ€, he nodded outside the carriage. Furious but unable to resist his casual remark I looked out of the carriage, even though it had just passed 8pm the view through the window was completely black, no shade or outline visible of the countryside no reflected light from the carriage on any tunnel walls, though the carriage still rocked there were no visual signs of movement or any light. I continued to pack up my belongings under the stare of this stranger. “You should not leave†“Why not? Who are you? And what gave you the right to make a grab at me!?†Before he had a chance to reply, fuming, I'd decided to get off at the next stop and get a taxi the rest of the way home. As I headed out of the carriage I gave a glance back at the man, he was still sitting there looking out of the window. Progressing farther down the train the few other passengers were going about their business without any undue attention to the outside, I could still see nothing through the windows. I waited at the end of the carriage and decided to quickly use the toilet. As the train came to a stop I quickly finished in the toilet and headed straight for the door, I could see the exterior of an enclosed station and the pale outline of a platform below the train with some station buildings and benches. I took a final look at my temporary assailant, the only passenger now he looked back at me shaking his head, I opened the door and stepped out. It's been two months now, and it's still hard to describe what happened next,though I'll try to record it here in my phone before the battery fails. As I opened the carriage door the blur of a man pushed past me onto the train, further annoyed I jumped onto the platform, I heard the door slam behind me and a strong blast of wind swept up as the train rocketed out of sight, rattling down the line, taking all other light and humanity away from me. Word count : 807 I was inspired from journeys I'd taken around London and some late night cross country train journeys (not first class) :P and the strange folk, myself included that inhabit these temporary worlds for travellers.