Going underground

I seem to have been here forever.

I was chatting to an Italian girl at Seven Sisters and, at the bottom of the escalator, where you walk through to the platform, there was another escalator going down. So we went on it, just to see, and it went on for ages. And, the longer it went on, the harder it would be to climb back up it to the top. So we decided to wait until it got to the bottom so that we could take the Up escalator back.

It looked old and dirty down here. The posters on the sides seemed to float up and past us. "Loose Lips Sink Ships". At one point, the escalator went over a huge, rusty pipe that emanated a sound of moving water - some fundamental part of London's plumbing, I assumed.

I fell asleep sitting on the steps and, when I woke up, Bea had disappeared and I was at the bottom. But there was no Up escalator. Just a short corridor that ended in a battered metal door. Someone had scratched "Abandon 3G Coverage All Ye Who Enter". My phone was dead. The battery flat.

I put my hand on the door, which was warm to the touch, and, suddenly, I was very sure that I didn't want to open it. Or to be there when it opened.

There was nothing for it but to try to climb up the escalator which had brought me down. I don't know how long I've been trying to push myself upwards from steps that continually fall away beneath me. Every now and then I have to rest for at least a few seconds and I can feel all that I have gained being taken away again.

And, at the bottom, the door is waiting for me...