Benjamin Alexander

“theriac – *1:a mixture of many drugs and honey formerly held to be an antidote to poison 2:cure-all”

He rode the rails. Black jacket on. Holstered ticket machine hanging from his shoulder. Crumpled trousers, shiny seat arse, leather shoes cracked across the folds, unpolished since bought over a decade ago. He sweated on this cool September day. And he was in a bad mood.

He filled the carriage, stomping up and down the aisle of the sixteen wheel service train that ran from Newark Castle to Matlock and back. Feeling like he was surfing the iron wave in perpetuity. Sweating. His belly couldn’t help but free itself from the front of his grey shirt. It hung like a water balloon over the top of his trousers. Fingers mashed at the ticket machine in irritated servitude.
“Thank you, sir.”

His face was wet grey parchment, dripping at the edges, ashen and…

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