It was an ordinary day, with the ordinary train commute and the ordinary boring office job. The door to the lift would ring at exactly 8:30 to reveal the slim, but not toned, David who would work non stop every day until 1 O'Clock on the dot. Allowing himself an hour for lunch.
His colleagues would be fascinated at the way someone could live their life so organised without ever having a hiccup. His whole life could be crumbling around him and he would still use that same bloody blue pen.
On the train, David would have the same seat, day in, day out. He'd stand at the same point on the platform so that the door to carriage B would stop directly in front of him, as if he had marked the concrete to ensure it would be the same spot every day. But of course, he hadn't.
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