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Railway Station EssayThe stench of boiling coffee wafted nearly the deserted railway station, thither were flutters of pigeons scuffling around, scrounging all the unexpended over nibbles that had been left on the floor by the commuters from the evening before. It was dawn and as the sun was rising, so was a watchful booster cable that every now and then swarmed through the dark station whisking away severely crumple newspapers that on their round, the cleaners had missed with the dust pan and brush earlier that morning. The hustle and bustle of the mine run public hurled its way into the calm, collected station. Information boards began to rustle and the sounds of informs departed from what was now like another world, the malodourous crammed station that had lost all its sense of dignity was now ready and waiting for what the daytime had in store. When people boarded the train that was due to take them to their destination it was like they had no concept of what was go ing on around them, completely oblivious to all the other passengers. Newspapers went up in the hot and clustered train compartment and people tucked themselves away in them for the duration of their journey even if they had already read it all, they would do anything to avoid the eye of a fellow commuter.The old escalators whined as they continually roamed up, and then back trim back again, as they carry frustrated, dizzy passengers who are always having to hurry around, never having anytime to stop on there busy, rushed route to work.Along one of the hard, cold walls a man sat there still, with his quest for as a companion, eagerly anticipating the kind passer by, who frequently would be able to spare a moment of their time to drop in a few valuable Pennines.A warm, soft touch sensation filled the right hand side of the station. The shoe polish from the repair stand that made everyone angle of dip there heads towards as the brushed by. Every now and then a well groomed ancest ry man popped in and had his shoes polished, before returning to his recurring hassle of his job.Throughout the chilled station a repeated yell took place every so often, coming from the four newspaper stalls, which echoed all around the station, Standard, come and get ya standard. The friendly face that occurred in the same place, at the same time, every day of the working year. Desperate to sell the days loads of papers to the commuters passing through the station.The stench of boiling coffee wafted around the deserted railway station, there were flutters of pigeons scuffling around, scrounging all the left over nibbles that had been left on the floor by the commuters from the evening before. It was dawn and as the sun was rising, so was a brisk wind that every now and then swarmed through the dark station whisking away severely crumpled newspapers that on their round, the cleaners had missed with the dust pan and brush earlier that morning.