Thursday 18 th January 2018
Early at the bus stop, he the first person there today. There are the remainders of the snow from during the night, still scattered patches of icy damp white. There are a number of cars in circulation
today with snow on their roofs, the windscreens cleared with the windscreen wipers.. 'A few cars have snowploughs attached, a large city council truck passes with a salt spreading device to attached to it's rear. It is spreading salt, cold weather is was expected,it has not snowed much at all this year. see Dolores approaching from the distance. And, There is the bog cotton man, striding along today. He is smoking his cigarette, he passes the bus shelter, wish him a good morning. There are no ducks on the grass between the has stop and the river. Maybe it is too cold for them, or else they have gone to be fed elsewhere.
Dolores leaves her place in the bus shelter, the bus is arriving, she needs to walk that short distance more quickly, the bus is early 'good. Morning''give each other a greeting' in
passing,
There is a dandified young man with red shoies, hair done in a quiff, smoking a cigarette and drinking an energy drink from a tin at the bus stop today. He dumps his empty tin and his cigarette into the waste bin attached to the bus stop before boarding the bus, after Dolores and the Bog cotton man. The Teacher-like man arrives, he joins the queue. Board the bus last, as usual. Pay the exact fare. Take a seat in the centre of the bus, facing the rear. Remember to check the seat for soiling and damp before sitting down. Wish the smoker his good morning before the station. Climb the stairs to the station's entrance, and go into the cafe, the bald man with the heard makes a cup of coffee. Not a cup, really, one of those yellow paper beakers. Yellow with the cafes signet in blue.
Today is a day of no concentration, of tiredness, a morning of still being asleep. Strangers everywhere, people seen every day on the same route, at the same time. None of them really known, but all recognised. And all the while the personal demon hissing away on the nght hand side of the head, a white noise hiss. There will only be another three years of this. And what then?
Sent from my iPad
Early at the bus stop, he the first person there today. There are the remainders of the snow from during the night, still scattered patches of icy damp white. There are a number of cars in circulation
today with snow on their roofs, the windscreens cleared with the windscreen wipers.. 'A few cars have snowploughs attached, a large city council truck passes with a salt spreading device to attached to it's rear. It is spreading salt, cold weather is was expected,it has not snowed much at all this year. see Dolores approaching from the distance. And, There is the bog cotton man, striding along today. He is smoking his cigarette, he passes the bus shelter, wish him a good morning. There are no ducks on the grass between the has stop and the river. Maybe it is too cold for them, or else they have gone to be fed elsewhere.
Dolores leaves her place in the bus shelter, the bus is arriving, she needs to walk that short distance more quickly, the bus is early 'good. Morning''give each other a greeting' in
passing,
There is a dandified young man with red shoies, hair done in a quiff, smoking a cigarette and drinking an energy drink from a tin at the bus stop today. He dumps his empty tin and his cigarette into the waste bin attached to the bus stop before boarding the bus, after Dolores and the Bog cotton man. The Teacher-like man arrives, he joins the queue. Board the bus last, as usual. Pay the exact fare. Take a seat in the centre of the bus, facing the rear. Remember to check the seat for soiling and damp before sitting down. Wish the smoker his good morning before the station. Climb the stairs to the station's entrance, and go into the cafe, the bald man with the heard makes a cup of coffee. Not a cup, really, one of those yellow paper beakers. Yellow with the cafes signet in blue.
Today is a day of no concentration, of tiredness, a morning of still being asleep. Strangers everywhere, people seen every day on the same route, at the same time. None of them really known, but all recognised. And all the while the personal demon hissing away on the nght hand side of the head, a white noise hiss. There will only be another three years of this. And what then?
Sent from my iPad
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