Two hours at the Victoria station

A traveller or a stranger, or whatever you think. Actually he was non of these. Two Victorian hours, that it couldn�t look like any other hours. While walking through the minutes of each hour and seconds of each minute the choice of staying or leaving was to be decided. Leaving everything behind or staying for some more moments. Talked and talked, got angry, laughed and lost any control. May be just few more minutes could change the destination. It got dark and darker, carelessly, looking outside the big windows of the station. Passengers leaving to all directions, while the only passenger who has no any direction is lost in a space of darkness. Fighting against each clock-tick. Loosing some and winning some. Wondering if there was a place for a looser at the Victoria station. Fighting on all fronts, sometimes attacking and now and then defending.
If I was a winner or a looser I couldn�t tell but I was Just waiting at the Victoria station.