Splat

The train's late. Leaning against the railing that runs round three sides of the entrance to the platform are three young men, two wearing baseball caps, the third bareheaded. About once a minute, the bareheaded one ambles forward to the edge of the platform and spits onto the rails. After about five minutes of this, one of the baseball caps, without moving from the railings, spits towards the edge of the platform. Their train arrives and they get in. I have another ten minutes to wait.