There was only one way out: the strip of pavement on the far side of Belinda Road. It led past the black bar with no name to the bridge and then away along Coldharbour Lane. Separated from the road by a line of bollards, it looked like a sluice, a ramp, a runnel - one that opened to another place where there were no men with guns pointing at me.
- from Remainder, Tom McCarthy
