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b'Mornings were queues and cigarettes. Queues for the underground turnstiles and queues for the train, queues for stale bagels and queues for lukewarm coffee at the kiosk outside the station. By the time he queued up at the west gate of the pit, Alexander Gerst \\u2014 tall and grizzled at forty-five, slope-shouldered and running slowly to fat \\u2014 was lucky if he wasn\\u2019t already halfway through his daily ration of tobacco. | Copyright 2015 by Dale Bailey. Narrated by Stefan Rudnicki.\\nLearn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices'