[ WP ] You receive news that you are terminal and only have 30 days to live , after spending your life savings going on all kinds of adventures , the doctors realise you have been misdiagnosed .

Three thousand hours on the phone, five thousand photocopying, five hundred hours on the train each way, and in forty-eight hours his house of cards had burned to ashes. 
 
 A train barreled through the station. Working folk, packed like sardines, looked through him as they passed. The mad ringing of his cell phone was the orchestra that played them off, as the rear of the train disappeared into the tunnel. 
 
 He stood straight upright in the middle of the platform, his dark hair still billowing in the exhaust fumes. His hands were cold and his eyes were run dry. 
 
 Thoughts of his wife ran through his mind, he had confessed his love and his lies to her, on the edge of death the man gave it all. He gave everything he had and here he was left; the shell of the man he was, and the image of a man he hated. Two steps closer to the platform edge brought pangs of regret through his chest. 
 
 Thirty days he was given to live, and yet here he stood on the the thirty-first, dragging his tired legs closer to the platform edge. The phone rang on once more, then stopped. He threw it down onto the tracks and threw himself down onto it, as the next train rolled into the station. 
 
 _______ 
 
 Please critique grammar.
