You're cowered into a filthy little alcove, nose smeared sideways against the oily ballast as the hulking mass of the subway train smashes past. The deafening roar of metal grinding metal is still battering around your skull as you leap up, wipe the grime from your eyes and bound over the 1000 volts of the third rail. A quick glance at the rapidly receding red glow of the train and you're going again.
Thirty seconds until the next one. No more rest stops, no save points. You better fucking run.
A small piece of insignificant organic matter in a vast universe, on a mission to squeeze life for every drop before I expire. Connect via - the request form, email@example.com, or twitter. Be interesting.
If you're after a big print send me an email, I don't sell postcards.