Monday Bloody Monday

Monday 8:41am: my train from Putney pulls into Teddington Station one minute late and I mutter under my breath "This would never happen in Switzerland, heads would roll...".

Unaware of how eerily accurate my thoughts are about to become, I hasten my step so as to be at my rightful spot in front and slightly to the left of the back doors of the first carriage on the 8:45 to Shepperton. I notice that it has taken me 28 steps from the footbridge rather than the usual 32 and put it down to the increased tempo. I am perturbed however, there have just been two changes from The Routine in the space of two minutes. This is going to be a tough week.

As I briefly consider whether to triple salto or double pirouette into the path of the oncoming train in anticipation of another week of 9 to 5 drudgery, my attention is caught by some movement down on the tracks and I realise one poor soul has unwittingly beaten me to it.

There is a pigeon on one of the sleepers. Or rather 7/8ths of a pigeon since its head lies a full six inches from its body. Wait, three inches. No, one foot. A monstrous crow - black as the night and easily the largest I have ever seen - is tossing the lifeless head in the air like a bloody rag doll. Next to it, another raven is pecking at the pigeon's neck with great gusto, scattering random pieces of red flesh across sleeper and rail alike. I am standing no more than one metre from this scene of carnage and can clearly see the dead bird's spine protruding from its torso. A gruesome sight.

I wonder briefly whether it is an omen for the week that is ahead of me. Although there is little chance of any of my work colleagues meeting the same fate, I attempt a minor curse on the accounts department and put my faith in the spirit of the pigeon. One thing is clear though: I do not trust the Benjys food van's offerings at the best of times , but this railway station is too close to their catering centre for comfort and I will not be opting for the chicken and mushroom pie today.