I'm in Glasgow Central Station. It is rush hour. When my train's platform is shown on the departures board I go to it. As I walk towards the platform the crowd of people around me thins. Only a handful of people actually get on the train.

I get into the first carriage. My sensei is sitting there. I sit next to him. We talk for a bit about various things, then I remember something I wanted to ask him. What is the name of the throw I've seen a lot of Russian judoka doing? Tori takes a grip on uke's collar and belt, raises his knee and then wheels uki over it.

He says he knows the name of the throw, but he can't think of it at the moment. He gets annoyed as the name eludes him.

The train is approaching my stop, and I get up and go to the door. A man is standing there. He's a skinhead. He looks like brutality personified, but when the train stops he helps an old woman to climb onboard.

I walk along the platform. The environment around me is a strange, techno-industrial cityscape. Smoking chimneys reach into the sky as if trying to escape from the world. Holographic signs hover in the air, advertising soft drinks, sportswear and popular television shows. I am scared.

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