“Mind the gap…” The man said robotically over the tannoy above their heads.
It was the fourth time they had been on the underground that day, jetting backwards and forwards, from place to place and always by the district underground trains. The aptly named ‘Circle Line’ was their main route of travel, as it had links to so many of the famous places in the city, but they had also travelled along at least two other networks, like ants along pavement. Their journey was endless.
After all, how were they supposed to know that the Waxworks Museum was shut?