DEEP in the cavity that lies between Edinburgh's Old and New Towns, lurking in the shadows just east of the Gardens and overlooked by the Balmoral's clock wanders a strange and endangered species of creature.
You can tell them by their ghostly pallor, exhausted expression and the regular bursts of steam spurting out of their ears.
Sometimes you can hear them too - their cries a long, steady, painful "AARRGGHH!!!", often accompanied by them tearing out
their hair.
They are, of course, commuters. And the big question is, how long will it be until they are extinct?
Okay, perhaps the day won't actually come when every single person who regularly takes the train to work decides they've had enough, but it is certainly rapidly approaching for this one.
And, I'd be really surprised if I'm the only regular rail user whose fingers are now twitching ever more towards my car keys.
Of course, the past few days have been exceptionally bad for the browbeaten train traveller.
The signal operators' strike action has certainly been effective in throwing a typically chaotic rail service into even more disarray - and who'd have thought that was possible?
But as for gaining public sympathy for their cause, well forget it.
It's a trifle tricky to feel compassion for a workforce which can earn £48,000 a year with a bit of extra weekend work and whose dispute is about how they cut their working week to 35 hours.
Crumbs, who would have thought working for the railways could be such a cushy number?
Flicking a few signals has got to be a lot less stressful than actually trying to travel anywhere by train.
Indeed, the word "travel" is something of a misnomer as I find there's not much travelling and a lot of staring out of the window admiring the back gardens and rear extensions in Carrick Knowe Road and Stenhouse Drive between which my train tends to enjoy a ten-minute stop on my daily commute.
But it's not just the wee delay here and there that's got me wondering if it might be worth tearing up my season ticket and taking the car to work.
No, it's the sudden announcements that my train is terminating miles from where I need to be with no offer from First ScotRail of alternative transport; it's the dumping of hundreds of passengers at Haymarket because Waverley Station is too congested - adding the price of a taxi journey to an already ridiculously high train fare - and it's the abrupt cancellation of services for who knows what reason.
Add to that the frustration involved in playing "Hunt the Platform" at Waverley - thanks to platform changes which leave hundreds of rail passengers regularly charging from their usual platform in search of the mysterious platform ten - and "Guess what the announcer is saying" (unless you're at Haymarket and wishing the announcer would quit trying to be funny and just explain what is actually happening).
Up to now I've tried to shrug it off and put it down to the romance of the railways - after all what romance runs smoothly? But no more. This disgruntled commuter has quite honestly had enough.
Now after each cancellation, delay and termination - and spurred on by First ScotRail's recent backslapping after a frankly dubious survey claimed the vast majority of rail users were happy with the service - I don my flat cap and best Victor Meldrew expression, log on to its website and fire off yet another seething e-mail complaint.
So far I've heard back from David, Andrew and Clara-Jane, all keen to reassure me that I'm a valued customer (not valued enough, though, to get a refund on my tickets), that they're very sorry, they fully understand the inconvenience, appreciate my frustration and are working with their rail partners to improve the standard of service on my route.
My barrage of e-mails hasn't yet led to a dramatic improvement in the service - although David does write a particularly nice, comforting, apologetic letter and I am left feeling a warm glow when I think of how I'm helping keep him, Andrew and Clara-Jane in a job.
But of course, it's not all First ScotRail's fault.
Network Rail and the dodgy points, faulty signals and striking employees with their inordinately large pay packets, play their role in it all - and as soon as I find their customer complaint e-mail address, I'll be letting them know that too.
Until then, however, it seems I'm left with two choices: put up and shut up, or find another way into work.
Now, has anyone seen my car keys?
