Moiety.

Winston Goundry sat on the 3:45 Sydney to Canberra service staring calmly out onto the scorched scenery, wondering if the third hour of his trip would be any more enjoyable than the first two. This was the fourth time Winston had been to Sydney this week and he now knew every turn the train would make.

His farm, just ten minutes drive from his home town of Berrima, had suffered badly in the last few months due to the drought, which had taken almost the whole of New South Wales. Meat prices had soured due to the lack of good quality livestock, as for Winston he would be better off selling his cattle to his grand children as pets.

Winston had been to Sydney meeting with other farmers from around the state regarding the problems at hand, but so far the only thing they had established was that due to a lack of water, there was a drought.

As the train passed the three quater mark Winston asked himself again if all this torment was completly nesessary, at age sixty-two and with the loss of his wife, he wondered if life had anything more to offer him. He adjusted his glasses and gazed around the carridge; a small group of teens were all huddled around the latest phone, or some sort of portable technology. Gathering his thoughts Winston questioned himself for a moment as to whether he should get something of the sort, to boost him in some way, he didn't know in which aspect of his life this would improve exactly, but they all seemed happy.

A young couple casually caressing each others necks and chuckling to themselves brought back memories of the life he had once shared with Joanne.

Although Joanne had only been gone a year Winston had aged alot since her passing, alot of the silver hair had left his head exposing a map of his hard life writen in sun spots and blemishes. At only five feet and four inches, Winston was never a tall man, taller once, but never tall, yet this never seemed to bother him up untill the last year. Now he felt the weight of his shoulders growing heavy and his legs had slowly grown frail after a life of hard labour.

After having a good look around the carridge Winston slowly arose from his seat and trundled down the aisle of the train unsteadely groping for something to hold onto as the train threw him around. It was ironic, he thought, that he should be so afraid of the train seats hurting him when in only five minutes, he would be dead.

He slowly made his way down the carriage towards the door that separated him from the next and after adjusting his glasses for the third time he fumbled and swung it open. the cold wind hit him hard and Winston suddenly found it alot harder to stand. Stepping cautiosly out on the unsteady steel platform and holding tightly to the guard rail Winston looked back into the carriage he had came from and noticed that not one person realized he was outside.

Winston glared down at the flashing rocks and sleepers as they scuttled by unaware of his presence. The fast moving colours of greys and browns made his eyes hurt and he closed them to gather some kind of composure. After opening them again Winston looked aside to his watch, 6:14. Good a time as any, he thought.

Winston took a large breath of fast air, held it there then lifted one foot off the platform. The sudden jolts from the train almost knocked him off his already unsteady feet as he battled to stay upright. Then just as he got his first leg up over the railing, the other carriage door swung open and a black man of about seven feet poked his head out into the wind, took a large bite of a sandwich and peered down at Winston.

Feeling awefully embarassed, Winston froze, one leg on the train and one off, holding firmly onto the cold railing between his legs. At this point he had only heard the door open, his eyes fixed firmly on the back of his eyelids.

On only a vague whim of slight curiosity, Winston took his first breath scince he heard the door and slowly crawled his blurry view along the rail towards the largest man he had ever layed his occasionaly functional eyes on.

The man stared straight into Winston, squinted, then took another bite of his sandwich. A whole minute passed, then another, and one more. Finally Winston, freezing and far beyond his pain threshhold, tried to speak but a sound resembling something more like a dolphin or a large parrot came out instead.

The giant seemed to get more of bead on Winston at this point and without a second's notice he put the last half of the sandwich in his wide mouth, streched out one arm and, without the slightest strain, picked up the frail man and brought him on the safe side of the railing.

Winston closed his gaping mouth, adjusted his glasses and finally caught a word and spat it out."How..." But even before this troubled word was passed his lips, the man had turned back and was inside the carriage.

Winston just stood there, amazed and incedibly frightened as he tried to comprehend the events.