I heard her come out of the bathroom, and her bedroom door close behind her. I knew she’d be locking her bedroom door, to make sure nobody walked in...on her while she was splayed on her bed, the massager in her crotch. I nervously sat waiting, unable to focus on the words coming from the talking head on SportsCenter. Soon her door opened and she came downstairs. I heard her in the hall as she looked in the linen closet. I’m sure she was checking to see if someone had found it and put it back in. As I was digesting this story I was attracted by a scuffle in the middle of the concourse. Two youths had snatched a bag from a young girl sitting on a bench and had run from the station premises knocking pedestrians over as they escaped through the evening rush.From where I was sitting I saw the girl had burst into tears and was sobbing quietly into a handkerchief. As was usual for London no-one was taking any notice, they were all too intent on catching their trains, to be bothered by a young. More

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