I was so late, everything was going wrong! The bus breaking down, the road closed for repairs, the fire alarm at the tube station. So much stress! Old Canada was nothing like this; the peaceful, serene lakes, hills and valleys. This was London though and you've got to have your witts about you here.

Finally after the crazed dash to the nearest underground station, it was getting late. The queue to purchase tickets seemed endless, I didn't have time for this. I searched for an alternative; every machine taken, every booth closed. 'Why today' I thought.

The line eroded away gradually, as did my patience. The woman at the machine was struggling, I seemed to recognise her. That shade of brown, the sleek, smooth shape of her body. Was this her? My muscles tightened up, I couldn't move. Deeper breaths, evermore deeper. She was the right height. I can't be here, I need to run, to escape. Then it happened.

I suddenly switched back to London from my alternate reality. The woman had turned around to ask for help. It wasn't her after all. I bathed in the sea of relief I had found myself in, whilst almost downhearted. A couple of taps on the screen and she was gone; ticket bought I rushed down the escalator disobeying the rules of underground etiquette, they could wait.

The end of the escalator seemed such an infinite distance away. People I passed were blurs, meer objects amongst the many posters showing West End shows. Avenue Q! I've heard so much about it, must see it some time. My feet glided down the moving cliffs of the escalator, how I was maintaining balance I did not know.

I reached the bottom, flew off, diffracted around the twists and turns of the passageways. I heard it. The tube. Was it arriving or departing? My pace quickened, one more corner, I can see it now!

A sign, 'Wet floor'. Skidding around the corner, the doors; please wait for me! It's dark, I'm pitched in blackness, where am I?

There was a faint sound of talking, my eyes were shut. I peeled them open, what had happened? I could see the same distorted figures which I had passed on the escalator, they were all around me, I was surrounded. Focussing my vision I clambered around until I could sit up; I was on the floor.

Something grasped my hand, 'Are you alright sir?'. What? Of course I'm not, I've missed my train. I could make the shapes out now, people. Whispers floated around, 'Should've watched where he was going', 'That poor, poor girl'. What were they talking about?

I stood with the assistance of some stranger. My legs hurt, they must be bruised. Collecting my discarded items and whatever remained of my dignity, I gazed around gauntlessly. There was someone else on the floor opposite me. Like I was, they were surrounded by a crowd of onlookers, a group of Japanese tourists took photos. I realised I must've crashed into this person and went over to them immediately.

Pushing my way through the crowds was exceptionally difficult due to my injuries, however I managed it slowly. As the haze of people cleared I could begin to see the motionless figure on the floor.

I regretted every moment of it. This couldn't be.

The End

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