Resting on a blood red, metal seat in the middle of London Victoria Coach Station, I await the bus that will deliver me to my final destination. I’ve been up and down the country a lot in the past week, visiting my family in Swansea and some of my friends in Brighton. A large man sits down on the same row of seats as me, leaving the obligatory few between us as one does. His mass bulges into the seats on either side of him and each of his movements result in a tidal wave of shaking and creaking throughout the entire row. I reach into my pocket and flip open a half-used packet of cigarettes. I light one between my lips. Hopefully it will mask the rancid cocktail of sweat and halitosis wafting from the man sitting nearby.

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