Squashed!

Horrors!  Today, alighting at Liverpool St., I heard behind me an angry voice.  OI! it went.  And OI! again.  When I looked back, a hand, the sleeve of a tweed jacket and a walking stick were protruding from the closing doors. 

Hold the doors, driver, please. 

Two tube guards, actually running.  Three commuters, actually dropping their briefcases and rucksacks.  One elderly gent, rescued from his trap.  I hope he was ok.

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