There’s a man standing on the platform who looks like Damian Lewis. But he’s obviously not, he’s younger, a bit blonder and it’s not my luck to be at a train station with Damian Lewis. He’s fixated on his phone.
The lady to my left has long flowing brown hair. The sort of hair that you only normally see on L’Oreal ads that has been bought by emaciated Russians. I don’t think she bought it. She is texting frantically and has bronze, swirling embellishments on her brown shoes.