Sitting on what I assumed to be the last train (or close to it) out of the city on a Sunday night you are never short of interesting people around. As I sat yearning to be home to finally sleep after a long shift I spotted a man pacing himself up and down the carriage. A plastic back resting nearby an empty seat, the man continued to pace himself, pulling out a pencil and methodically trying to write on a window to no avail every few minutes. The man didn’t seem menacing or dangerous in any way but was clearly under the influence, the other patrons around me kept their distance, so did I. Half way through the trio the man moved onto the next carriage at almost the same time the Train PSOs walked through our carraige checking around for anything out of the ordinary, I alerted the PSOs to the mans presence as it seemed a better use of their time. They walked on to the next carriage to find him and never returned. There was no resolution to this yarn, as is life. People enter and exit as they do.