A phone rang. A small gnome-like man stretched into his pocket and put the phone to the side of his head. A big tapered woolly hat covered his head but a gap formed in his hirsute face as he answered. He seemed uneasy. He muttered into the phone: "No, the mortuary department" and hung up. Fellow travellers decided to ignore him.
Another phone rang. A small dumpy woman clutched the phone to her head, she listened for a moment and responded: "It's too late now, I'm nearly at Waterloo. I'm early 'cos I rushed out the house, but I've left the straighteners on". She hung up. Fellow travellers chose to ignore her.
All life is there... but will her house be on her return?
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