Every day, I take the tube to work. As you might imagine of a routine, there are various constants, from the bus drivers smoking outside the depot to the cat perched on the garden wall. We are creatures of habit, and more or less everyday I meet the same people on the tube platform, in our same spots waiting for the same train. We have a mute community. Nobody dares break the silence but we recognise each other, share knowing smirks at abnormalities and for the first time today I saw an act of samaritan proportion.

A regular (obviously nameless, yet he looks like a Steve) left the carriage - and his umbrella - at South Kensington. The rain in London has been unusually absent in recent weeks, which is perhaps why Steve forgot that, today, he was accompanied by his umbrella.

Without second thought, a fellow regular darted out of the carriage with Steve's umbrella, knowing full well he'd forfeit his prized seat and, no doubt, his efforts and getting to the office early. The doors hissed closed as they are accustomed to. Everyone smiled.

Sadly, for every act of kindness there must go one hundred lost items. I've always wondered where all these items go when collected. I had visions of endless warehouses of bizarre things stacked 20ft high, like something from Raiders of the Lost Ark. I saw this list of staff favourites today, from TFL:

1.Two and half hundredweight of sultanas

2.Breast Implants

3.Theatrical coffin

4.Stuffed eagle

5.14-foot long boat

6.Garden Slide

7.Jar of bull's sperm

8.Urn of ashes

9.Vasectomy kit

10.Two human skulls in a bag