the train was hot and crowded, I’d been sitting next to an old freckled man who mumbled and flailed his arms as he slept. but finally the train guard sounded the tanoy and my stop was revealed, Lytchett Matravers. I had only been told to travel ten stops, therefore you can imagine my confusion when the meeting point was in the middle of the country.

I stepped off the carriage, carrying the Louis Vuitton suitcase, filled with old Nokias and iPhones, along the platform. The bag must have only weighed a couple kilo’s but it felt a ton.

the air was thick and cold, it stabbed and scratched at the back of my throat as I inhaled the smog. ” Lytchett Matravers,” I thought, “I’ve seen better.”. The platform had holes and dips on its surface, the stairs across the station’s two platforms was old and rotting, with mould growing on the chewing gum infested handrail. eventually walking over to the entrance I saw a sign, on which “Lost bags, your new property inside,”

this wasn’t surprising, nowadays people took what they wanted and would casually kill if anyone said no, however seeing as which I was told that if I lost this bag I would be killed I didn’t want to find myself running to this sign at all. I walked over to the door and just as I was about to walk through a stampede of office workers rushing home trampled me at the foot of the door and kicked country dust in my face. I got and carried on hoping no one saw me become just another piece of meet to those animal workers, finally I was out and in the road. the buildings on the street were huge, old rotting things with c racks splitting them in two. the once cream paint had faded from age to an off white. the houses seemed to arch over me in their shear height. The air was still thick, but now gave off an unneededly strong coffee smell and heavily mixed with those of car fumes that were belched from the passing van.

Eventually, I saw my employer and causiously stepped closer.