The three-unit train was stopped at Sandhills for longer than usual. At first, like the half-dozen other passengers in my middle unit, I was too tired to care. Then, when the pause stretched into several minutes, I wondered if an accessibility ramp was being deployed.
"Network North-West regret that, due to damage to the track, this service is terminating at this station. Please collect your baggage and vacate the train. Network North-West regret..."
A dozen of us stumbled from the station, stood under the street light, woke our phones. We soon found there were no taxis to be had within the hour, sought alternate plans. A group of four students clad as LOTR characters made a few calls. Finding a nearby friend of a friend who would put them up for the night, they strolled into the side-streets. A pair of sassy witchlings summoned their dad who'd been waiting at the next station. A 'Wizard & WarLass' couple strode away via the underpass. Three unconvincing zombies of indeterminate gender