I shield my eyes

THE WIND seemed to blow me about in every direction instead of forwards. The road was slippery and I got about halfway to the bus when my foot slipped. My feet got to their optimum distance apart and I fell. I felt my trousers rip and my crotch scream.

"Ooh! Jesus!"

I lay for a moment holding my crotch and catching my breath and looking at the bus through watery eyes. It had not moved.

I eased myself up and set off again, half hopping, half trotting with my crotch burning.

As I drew near I noticed that, as far as I could see, the bus had no passengers.

"No one daft enough to be out in such blasted weather", I thought.

I also noticed that there was neither a destination name on the front, nor a number. Strange. Nor advertisements as there usually are. In fact the bus was devoid of all embellishment.

It was just painted a plain dark brown. But my observations were subsidiary to the discomfort I felt. The anticipation of at last getting warm was uppermost in my mind; I would go straight to the front where the heater was. Suddenly the engine roared and the bus started to move.

I held up my hands to shield my eyes from the glare of the headlights as the bus came accelerating towards me. I waved to the driver as the nose of the bus drew past me; I could not see him behind the glass.

"Hold on!" I called, "Wait for me to get aboard!"

The roar of the engine drowned the sound of my voice. I slapped the side panels and tried to grab the handrail, but the bus was going too fast. All I could do was watch as the vehicle drove away.

Anger flared in me again and I unleashed a diatribe of abuse. I shook my fist as if by that gesture I could make the bus stop. The howl of the wind stifled my cries. I stood defeated and dejected.

"Your driver must be blind!" I blurted, "He must have seen me."

I watched as the bus reached the curve in the road. It would be gone in a moment. Then the bus slowed and stopped. Hope stirred, and I took a few steps forward.

Perhaps the conductor had seen me and rung the bell to stop the bus?

I walked on. The bus idled as if it were waiting. "It must be waiting for me." I thought, "Perhaps the driver had not seen me. If you're not expecting to see someone on a lonely road?

What can I lose, I'm heading towards the car anyway". I quickened my pace as much as the icy road would allow. The lights of the bus looked so inviting.

As I approached I saw an arm reach out of the drivers window and beckon. I waved back excitedly. As I neared the boarding platform the engine rumbled into life and the bus started to move. My heart jumped.

I ran the last few steps, grabbed the handrail, and jumped onto the platform. I thought that the driver could have waited those last few steps, he must have a grim sense of humour. But I was on now and that was all that mattered.

I could not see the conductor, nor was I worried. I made my way to the front seat next to the heater. I rubbed my hands. The interior seemed to be as cold as outside. I felt the heater. It was blowing cold air!

No! Don't tell me it's not working!