I sit patiently, my fur lined hood drooping down over my eyes as I stare down at my cold sneakered feet. My fingers lightly brush the edge of the platform, testing the distance absent-mindedly. My feet rest firmly on the pavement, my black sneakers contrasting against the bright yellow line painted beneath me. I inch them over, from the left side of the line to the centre, examining it. The ripples in the pavement cause slight variations in the saturation of the yellow paint. Yellow. Bright, solid, a visual barrier that screams to be obeyed, separating the space and clearly identifying the boundaries that we are expected to live within. DO NOT CROSS, it boldly exclaims. I don’t. I sit within the boundary, the end of my shoe just grazing it’s outer edge. As a sudden gust of cold wind swirls around me, my hood lifts, revealing lights in the distance. I quickly look back down. My core flutters with fear and anticipation. I continue to look down. My heart pounds loudy, the quickening beats thonderous amid the subtler sounds of the distant traffic and murmers of passersby. Only seconds later, a sharp, mechanical, musical exclamation pierces the quiet around me! Once, twice, in quick succession… warning me… the nervous tension of it’s controller almost tangible in it’s urgency. Before the third warning is complete, the sound is interrupted and overpowered by the monsterous cry of thousands of pounds of metal, machine and man hurdling towards me and passed me at unimaginable speeds. My heart leaps from my chest as I flinch away, inaudibly gasping in my next breath as air rushes passed and around me, throwing back my hood and whipping my hair around my face. My muscles clench tensely as each wave of screaching clamour assaults me. I keep my eyes open, staring intently, refusing to submit to my cowardice. A moment later, it’s over and my body is relaxing as the surge or fear and adrenaline begins to seep out of me. That was easier today. I continue waiting for my 5:15 train to arrive.