Almostly True Story: The Goblin Man

As I managed to warily squeeze my way off the bus, through the sentinels that stand there oblivious to the movements of others, I weaved my way around the pavement hogs that charge or saunter directly towards me as if I am nothing but a puff of man-shaped air. I drew thoughtlessly on my cigarette and reached the crossing that no other Londoners ever use as they are all walking out in front of the traffic, sometimes held in a kind of stasis in the middle of the road.

I observed them for a while...