"No."
"Excuse me, I need to get onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. It is of the utmost importance."
I sighed. "No. There is no such thing. Look."
The man's face grew red. "I don't know where it is either. But I NEED TO GET THERE!"
I stepped around the information counter, slapping a "Back in Five Minutes" sign down with what I realize now was unnesscessary force. "Look sir," I said, "I'll show you."
He followed me, breathing heavily, over to Platform Nine. I slowly walked to the middle of the barrier between the platforms. First I shoved it with my hand, then leaned all my weight into it. I vaulted over it and back. "Nothing there sir. Go away."
His breathing rate increased. His eyes, red from lack of sleep, bulged. His whole rather disgusting body quivered. "I see." He said.
A line had formed at the desk and I hurried back over to it. In the pauses between lost tourists and angry buisnessmen I could see the man glowering at the barrier between the platforms. He even struck it with his fist once. I looked up again and didn't see him, and he was soon forgotten.
Until, thirty seconds later, the face of the woman infront of me, who had been asking about last week's departure times, suddenly paled. Before I could react, huge beefy arms slipped under mine, and I was lifted bodily into the air and pressed against what could only have been the stomach of that horrid, disgusting, and, it now seemed, crazy man who had been inquiring of Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.
"Put me down."
He grunted and began running.
"Put me down."
He ran faster, and the barrier between Platforms Nine and Ten loomed before me.
I kicked with my right foot, and the heel hit the side of his leg. I tried again, and his grunt of pain was the last thing I heard in the world of ordinary men.
The barrier suddenly flickered out. A scarlet steam engine running on tracks I knew from years of memorization could not exist was the background for a most unlikely scene. A semicircle of men and women, dressed in black and purple, and all wearing pointed hats that I found oddly comforting, stood gaping at us. By us I mean me and the awful man, but mostly the man. The only part of me visible to the crowd was a bit of my head, as the rest was covered up by the man, who had tripped on an expected something that had turned to nothing, and fallen on me. A steady stream of blood dripped down frowm his forhead, obscuring my view of the person in the center of the semicircle. Breathing was difficult, until he rolled off of me. He lay there limp while I bled from several places. The drip was gone, though, so I could see a man rather taller than the rest, and bigger, and hairier. He wore no hat, but he held a pink umbrella pointed directly over me, at the barrier or something beyond. He looked very worried.
*^
"Excuse me, I need to get onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. It is of the utmost importance."
I sighed. "No. There is no such thing. Look."
The man's face grew red. "I don't know where it is either. But I NEED TO GET THERE!"
I stepped around the information counter, slapping a "Back in Five Minutes" sign down with what I realize now was unnesscessary force. "Look sir," I said, "I'll show you."
He followed me, breathing heavily, over to Platform Nine. I slowly walked to the middle of the barrier between the platforms. First I shoved it with my hand, then leaned all my weight into it. I vaulted over it and back. "Nothing there sir. Go away."
His breathing rate increased. His eyes, red from lack of sleep, bulged. His whole rather disgusting body quivered. "I see." He said.
A line had formed at the desk and I hurried back over to it. In the pauses between lost tourists and angry buisnessmen I could see the man glowering at the barrier between the platforms. He even struck it with his fist once. I looked up again and didn't see him, and he was soon forgotten.
Until, thirty seconds later, the face of the woman infront of me, who had been asking about last week's departure times, suddenly paled. Before I could react, huge beefy arms slipped under mine, and I was lifted bodily into the air and pressed against what could only have been the stomach of that horrid, disgusting, and, it now seemed, crazy man who had been inquiring of Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.
"Put me down."
He grunted and began running.
"Put me down."
He ran faster, and the barrier between Platforms Nine and Ten loomed before me.
I kicked with my right foot, and the heel hit the side of his leg. I tried again, and his grunt of pain was the last thing I heard in the world of ordinary men.
The barrier suddenly flickered out. A scarlet steam engine running on tracks I knew from years of memorization could not exist was the background for a most unlikely scene. A semicircle of men and women, dressed in black and purple, and all wearing pointed hats that I found oddly comforting, stood gaping at us. By us I mean me and the awful man, but mostly the man. The only part of me visible to the crowd was a bit of my head, as the rest was covered up by the man, who had tripped on an expected something that had turned to nothing, and fallen on me. A steady stream of blood dripped down frowm his forhead, obscuring my view of the person in the center of the semicircle. Breathing was difficult, until he rolled off of me. He lay there limp while I bled from several places. The drip was gone, though, so I could see a man rather taller than the rest, and bigger, and hairier. He wore no hat, but he held a pink umbrella pointed directly over me, at the barrier or something beyond. He looked very worried.
*^