The descent to her platform at Melbourne Central involved the usual dodging past people who found it appropriate to stand still wherever and whenever they felt like it, no matter who was behind them, or how much of a hurry they might be in. Rush hour meant nothing other than an even more chaotic interplay of movement and obstruction. Battling her way through as deftly as she could manage, cursing her apparent invisibility, Heather often wondered who thought of putting a multilevel shopping complex above a busy city train station. She supposed the rationale was expediency, but it had created a conflict of interest. People halted in their tracks to browse the shops or because they had lost their way in the confusion of escalators and poor signage.
That afternoon, Heather found herself more
