I spend a fair amount of my late evenings at Westminster Station. The last tube home runs later than my last mainline train, so if I'm cutting it fine, the tube always wins. Westminster is a relative new station, of the concrete cathedral style. It has an austere industrial feel, banks of escalators, plenty of curved satin steel, exposed cables, pipes and services, criss-crossing braces and a slightly urban futuristic appearance. But it's also very leaky. The front end of the Westbound District Line is a host to a plethora of buckets capturing the constant drips. And this doesn't seem to coincide with rain storms, so it must be coming from somewhere else.
It's still a great place for people watching though. However if you tend to favour the very last tube each day, there are few people to watch.
Tonight I glance up at the ceiling, dramatically lit by up lighters, and espy what I suspect is an octopus. Not just any octopus, but an orange toy one which I suspect is sticky due to where was suspended. The orange is a perfect pop against the dark grey and I'm assuming someone threw it into the air with some force, and this is its final resting place. I'm trying to imagine if it was a child trying to see how far they could throw or an exasperated parent having confiscated said eight-legged creature, and tossed it to one side somewhat vigorously. I wonder if the stickiness will wear off one say and some unfortunate passenger will be awaiting the tube, and get a fright of their life when the orange tentacles work themselves free and it plops onto their unsuspecting head. Hmmm something to ponder whilst I will the last tube to arrive.
Posted with Blogsy
No comments:
Post a Comment