THE SURFER OF THE SUBWAY

Slowly. My footsteps echo against the concrete walls. My pace quickens. Faster and faster. Until I stop thinking about what I'm doing and let my feet take me where they want to go. There's a light. Shining at the end  of the tunnel. It's getting bigger, I'm surrounded by light. Freedom at last. This is the first in thirty years. I'm free. Free at last. Where shall I go? Home. What should I do? Run. Flying past buildings and trees and bridges and rivers and lakes and fields. Flying away, free as a sparrow, fast as an eagle. I want to dance around without a care in the world, but I have somewhere to be. Now. I hail a cab and give the directions and then sit back and relax. My head is nodding, my shoulders drooping and my eyes fluttering shut. No, I must - stay awa-. . . KE. STAY AWAKE, you can do this. But the dreams are coming thick and fast. My wife and two daughters, meeting me at the station, their beautiful faces smiling like stars in the dark nights sky, but then, what is happening? They're waving, disappearing off onto the train, I'm running trying to catch them but I can't, it's like I'm running through thick treacle. I stop. Exhausted by the effort, I collapse on the ground and shut my eyes.

A pinch, lightly at first but it gets harder. Another one, 'shtonp' I mumble. 'STOP' I repeat, louder this time. I open my eyes to see an ugly great face looking over me. His breath smells like he had kippers for breakfast but his beard says otherwise.

"Here, he's awake." He announces "Now where's my money?" He demands, turning back to me. Money! I forgot about money. All those years locked up I've forgotten what life's like in the real world. My wife's inside with my money and a spare change of clothes but I'm outside without any money and with a set of clothes that look like I've just got off the street.

"Well," I gulp "will you let me just run inside and get some?"

"Absolutely not, I don't trust the likes of you. Fairs fair, pay up or I'll be forced to call the cops."