Standing outside in the cool evening air, Max checked his watch for the time. As late as it was, he didn't want to miss the upcoming train, no matter how hungry he was. The tantalising smells of the kebab truck that'd set up shop outside the nearest T-stop to his fire station was seductive, though, so he'd stopped to get a bite before heading home. It'd been a busy day, called in despite being off-duty to fill in for someone else, but he'd been sent home after the crush abated and now he could go back to his remaining day-off. What was left of it.
He cut a glance to the side, at the stairs leading down into the subway station, lit in dirty orange and marked clearly with the station name. He felt a little uneasy around Newton's T-stops. Not only because of his run in, but the subway had been the site of too many unpleasant call-ins when he'd been a full time paramedic. Almost always Newton stops, which had given him a firm superstition about the whole tunnel network.
In a burst of distracting noise, the food truck chef called his order and Max turned away from the gaping maw of the T-station entrance. Eagerly, he wrapped his hands around the kebab stuffed to the brim with everything they'd had on offer and stepped to the side. He ambled in the general direction of the entrance to the subway station, but he was distracted by his food.
Max lifted the big bundle of pita and filling and took a gigantic bite, his elbow brushing against someone as he lowered his arms. With a full mouth, he forced out an apologetic albeit muffled, “Sorry, excuse me,” as he turned to look at whoever he'd bumped, expression apologetic despite his puffed cheeks. He tried to chew and swallow all at once, the big bite of food going painfully down his throat.
He cut a glance to the side, at the stairs leading down into the subway station, lit in dirty orange and marked clearly with the station name. He felt a little uneasy around Newton's T-stops. Not only because of his run in, but the subway had been the site of too many unpleasant call-ins when he'd been a full time paramedic. Almost always Newton stops, which had given him a firm superstition about the whole tunnel network.
In a burst of distracting noise, the food truck chef called his order and Max turned away from the gaping maw of the T-station entrance. Eagerly, he wrapped his hands around the kebab stuffed to the brim with everything they'd had on offer and stepped to the side. He ambled in the general direction of the entrance to the subway station, but he was distracted by his food.
Max lifted the big bundle of pita and filling and took a gigantic bite, his elbow brushing against someone as he lowered his arms. With a full mouth, he forced out an apologetic albeit muffled, “Sorry, excuse me,” as he turned to look at whoever he'd bumped, expression apologetic despite his puffed cheeks. He tried to chew and swallow all at once, the big bite of food going painfully down his throat.