It's a good move actually. Seddon is very quiet and the streets around the station are deserted at night. I've often felt very alone and wondered what would happen if something happened. I always greet them whenever I see them and it feels like they're becoming part of the community.

Announcements came reasonably frequently. The driver sounded more and more frustrated as the announcements turned into statements about how nothing had changed and we were still stuck. It sounded like he had a lamb roast waiting for him at home and this was the third time this week he was going to be late. Meanwhile, the two men continued to rage against each other. My friend and I talked and swapped notes on unlocking the mysteries of our iPhones.
Soon I noticed sitting at the other end of the carriage a woman who looked deeply distressed. She was quiet, but rolling her head back, wringing her hands and seemed to be inside her own head. Her face betrayed deep pain.
I couldn't stand it any longer and decided to move to another carriage. The aggression and distress in the air was starting to get to me. We moved forward one carriage. Before long, there was yelling and a woman screaming uncontrollably, coming from the carriage we had left. I wondered where the PSO's were. They arrived on the scene shortly. It was interesting to see how they worked. There were four of them, one took the lead to engage with one of the people and the others stood around, close enough, but far enough. I didn't hear what happened, but I was pleased that people were on hand to assist and diffuse. I was glad I had changed carriages.
When I arrived back at Seddon station, there were the PSO's waiting on the platform. I hope they never have to do anything. I think just their presence should be enough to make sure they don't. I hope the people yelling and crying got the help they needed.
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