The Ghosts of Kings Cross

All of us are going to die one day. So if we all live like our last day was yesterday.....that would make us all ghosts. And we could scare the crap out of each other by walking through walls and appearing randomly. When I was walking through kings cross I walked past the clock with the exact time of a group of people dying during as a tribute to a fire which took place many years ago and it got me thinking about the thousands of people who walk through this station and how many millions before them. Which led my crazy mind to start thinking about the ghosts that would 'patrol' the corridors of kings cross.... I'm guessing most people have stopped reading now, but for the few fun crazy people like myself who are still reading I apologize for the way my mind works..... Here goes.

So, anyway, as I walked through Kings Cross from the Northern Line to the Hammersmith and City, I saw this clock and I started to imagine all of these people from different eras wondering around. Let me tell you a few stories I made up.

The gentlemen with only one leg dressed fully in WW2 uniform, a backpack on and crutches walking into the safety of the bunker below. He acknowledges no-one yet a young lady offers an arm. He briefly looks up to see a gorgeous set of bright red lips stood in front of him (a body attached of course but go with me on this one....). His somber face cracks the briefest of smiles and a very polite, slightly northern "alright love?" He allows her help and a love story concurs. 

The nurse coming underground from a hard days work, long black coat wrapped tightly around her, a red scarf and black court shoes. She is carrying nothing. She is thinking about the patient who died in her arms today, a lovely young boy, aged only 14, who had been caught in a house fire, his face badly scarred and always slipping in and out of consciousness. He responded well to this nurse who read him to sleep every night. She missed last nights shift due to bad weather conditions keeping her snowed in at home. She came in this afternoon to find him holding on, just to see her pretty face one last time. They say don't get attached to your patients but there are those who you will never forget.

The teenager who wants to get away from the biting cold if only for an hour or two. Too proud to beg for anything, he sits at the bottom of the stairs hiding away from the hundreds of people who ignore him. He has no shoes on. Another boy walks past, stops briefly, takes out a spare pair of trainers he has in his bag and a sandwich, gives it to the teenager and walks away without saying anything. What this stranger didn't know was that he had made this boys night and he would find a nice sheltered door way to sleep with a smile on his face that night.

The busker who once played violin at the last night of the proms but cannot seem to find work now. She plays some of the most heart wrenching music, a few passers by stop to listen, drop a few coins in and walk on. Later, as the tubes close down for the night, she will go and find herself a small cafe and order one tea and a slice of cake with the money she made. She doesn't perform for the cash, she performs for the people and her love of music.

.....now I am back to reality. Can you just imagine if this was so, if these ghosts walked the hallways of Kings Cross living the same moment every day, completely oblivious to everyone else around them? Or am I just crazy? Who knows? Happy thinking