I am at my university and all the buildings are collapsing. I am running, away from the buildings which are falling like giant skittles. I run and run until I think I am safe, but now I have run too far. It is nightfall and it is time for me to go home but I can’t find my way back. I desperately search for the train station but the only stations I can find are the stations of faraway towns and towns I don’t recognise. Finally I find a name I recognise: Heathmont. But it is not just Heathmont, it is Heathmont “South”. I never knew there was such a station. I am on the platform now and loud diesel trains like those on the country lines pass by, scooping up the waiting passengers. I cover my ears to block out the harrowing noise. The trains depart and I gaze across to the platform on the other side of the tracks wondering whether that is my platform. I jump onto the tracks and run across. I need to get back onto the platform quickly before another train comes. I try to heave myself up but my arms are too weak and I fall back onto the tracks. I try again with a bit of a run. This time I manage to get up. Again, it’s not the train I want, but there is another platform on the other side of this platform which might be. There are many platforms here, like at Richmond station. An endless series of platforms. I continue the futile search for the one I want, before surrendering to the fact that I am completely and utterly lost.

platform