The hunters lay in wait for their prey.

The more experienced pick their spot carefully. They know where the beasts will appear – and at the same time, most days. Mercifully, today will be no exception, for the hunters disappointment can quickly turn to anger.

Crowded together they are silent, necks craning to catch a glimse of any signs that will reveal the location of their target. The occasional head turns to look around to check for any other indication that might give them that slight edge over their competition.

Suddenly, a sign. Even before there is any noise, they know where their prey is.

A hundred bodies turn and move as one, but quickly the slower members are left behind.

It takes just seconds for them to reach the first of the dozen members of their target herd. But the rewards are the same for all: Their preferred choice of seating on the 1714 departure from Kings Cross to Cambridge.

(I don’t know why, but the train arrives very shortly before it’s due to depart. It’s not announced on the boards until after it’s ready and even though it’s almost always platform 8, the above appears to be a daily occurance)