{This is one from the archives. This one originally dates from 2009 and was finished in 2018 after several previous attempts that got nowhere}

It was the height of the morning rush hour and the crowds of commuters were on their way to work.

Pierre Clement was one of the commuters who in their tens of thousands made their way from Waterloo to their place of work five mornings a week, week in, week out, year in, year out. Most of the time, he was just another face in the throng of people using the station.

Pierre had been living in London for more than ten years and ran a Wine Importers that was based on the western edge of the ‘Square Mile’. He waited patiently for the No 243 bus to take him to his stop on Theobalds Rd. He was not in a good mood that morning as another passenger on the 07:45 from Guildford had spilt their coffee when the train stopped at Effingham Junction with an unexpected jolt. Quite a lot of it ended up on the previously immaculately pressed trousers of his business suit. Several other passengers did a good bit of ‘effing’ of their own.

An cryogenic experiment, A brave volunteer starts to dream about being the opposite sex. Is it malfunctioning equipment or intentional or something entirely different all together.