Observation of the Station (rhyming couplet unintended)

The jagged bulk of the trains jerked to a standstill with a screech over the railway lines. They were black with accumulated filth and puffed, wheezed and squealed like an asthmatic, hysterical woman.

Above this terrible noise, the announcements droned over everyones heads, obviously read out by people with a permanent cold. They informed every passenger present that the trains were ready and waiting to take them ton any destination on the British Mainland; from Perth to Plymouth. The announcers threw their cries into the filthy air, telling that the next train to arrive at Platform three would be the 21:30 to Birmingham New Street.

Whilst trains arrived and announcers struggled to be heard, people of every race, gender and social class were spewed out onto the platform, just as an equal number tried to pile through the very same doors they were exiting from. Each one had the regulation orange and yellow ticket clutched in their right hand. Grubby from so much handling. They elbowed each other out of the way, shouted to be heard above the row and some even tripped each other up in their frantic scramble to get to their destination before everyone else.