PIGEON KING OF PLATFORM NINE

The 8:12 to Westborough did not arrive. Instead an enormous pigeon wearing a crooked crown and a spotless bus conductor's jacket landed on the departure board. He cleared his throat in a way that suggested years of public-sector management.

"Attention, taxpayers," he announced. "By authority of the Unofficial Avian Council, Platform Nine has declared independence. All human infrastructure must now meet basic crumb-distribution standards."

Tessa, three days into a probationary job in city transport, looked for a hidden camera. Nobody else did. Two hundred commuters simply stood in their usual queue, because people could acclimate to anything if the queue survived.

The pigeon produced a tiny ballot box. There would be a vote on whether humans could continue to use the platform. Tessa could try to negotiate with a bird or challenge his constitutional claim.