The emergency lighting is on at Hounslow Central. The station is lit oddly, with eerie shadows cast across the platform.

I'm walking slowly down the track, and I can see a man ahead of me. He is dressed in a grey business suit, walking away from me, empty-handed. From the tunnel ahead there comes the rumble of an approaching train. The man stops and looks at me over his shoulder.

Then the train hits him; he is pulled under the wheels which rip into his body and tear him apart.

The train stops just in front of me. His severed arm is by my foot. As I bend to pick it up, blood washes out from beneath the train like a bright red stream; it flows over my shoes, and I can feel it wet and hot against my ankles. There's a sour smell in the air; the coppery taint of blood, coupled with the sickening stench of ruptured bowels and intestines.

The arm twitches in my hand. It is still warm.

The scene changes. A man, flayed, stands in a pool of his own blood. His chest has been hacked open and ribs pulled apart to reveal the organs inside. As I watch, a scientist takes a slice of his liver; he shudders in pain, but the liver heals in minutes. Other scientists slice off pieces of flesh, a kidney, sections of intestine, his genitals; he feels all of this, but can't stop them though he flinches away from them. I can see into his chest cavity as a scientist takes a slice from his heart; it continues to beat, though thick black blood is welling up from the wound. His heart looks odd - as though it has been bleached, all pale and white apart from the dark red blood vessels. The Scientist puts the slice of heart into a dish and it grows into a new heart which starts to pulse in the petri dish; the flayed man picks it up and starts to eat it.

A scientist gives me a scalpel to take a sample from the flayed man. I cut off a piece of muscle from his back, and then walk back to the station.

They have jacked up the train to remove the man. The train has sliced him into pieces; his body is still twitching. I try to give him the piece of muscle; if he can eat it, he will heal. But he is too dead to eat it. I don't know what to do with the flesh; if I give it to someone they will be immortal, but I don't want to eat it. I don't want to just throw it away though, so I wander around with the piece of flesh and the scalpel.

Tube mice are eating the body; it is covered by a sea of grey-brown fur. I toss the piece of flesh into the mound of moving bodies. Some of the mice come and cluster around my feet. I carve words into my arm with the scalpel. Blood runs down my arm in rivulets to spatter on the floor; the mice lap it up with tiny red tongues. The body is now a flayed mess of raw meat that only vaguely resembles a human. I walk towards the edge of the platform and look down. I can't see the tracks any more; only a river of blood that flows away into the tunnels.

And then it all starts again.

Pinched from tephramancy (uh oh, diffrentcolours won't be happy with me...!):

Love means never having to...: apologise
That's how the cookie...: crumbles
Wherever you are...: you are there
If you can't sing....: hum it
Faking it is....: natural
Women ain't nuthin but.....: goddesses
Men are....: little boys in long trousers
Whip me, beat me, call me....: now!!
Women know.....: childbirth
Men know....: dick
Ride me, you big....: whore
Color me....: caring
Avalon is completely....: urm...urm...!
Life sucks and then you...: die
Life is just a dream when you...: fall in love
The early bird catches....: herpes
If you're gonna play with the big boys, you better be able to....: handle big toys
Be true to yourself and you'll....: have honour
If you're gonna run with the night owls you better be able to....: fly
Nothing is lonelier than...: insomnia at 3am
Music is....: life
There is nothing without....: music

( More rat photos )