Walking towards Waterloo. Passing a lone police horse and rider. The rhythmic sound of hooves on stone juxtaposing with the metallic screech of coach wheels on rails as a train clatters across a bridge into the terminus. An old man (suit and cap) watches the policeman on horseback, perhaps recalling his youth in an age of fewer horseless carriages. A homeless man rummages through a bin to the slight bemusement of the equine based officer. He pulls out an Irish rugby flag and slowly waves the green banner with the same satisfaction of a child. The small drama of a quiet Saturday night street.