Getting there

Took the bus in the morning from the side of the road, opposite mum's place and more-or-less in the middle of near-nowhere. I was assured that busses do actually stop when you stick your hand out for them, even though there aren't actually any bus stops to speak of.

"I get the bus there all the time," mum said. "But you have to wave at it as soon as you see it."
I picture her, standing on the verge, arm pumping for the whole of the ten minutes it takes from seeing the bus lumbering over the rise in the far distance to actually getting anywhere near her. I picture the looks on the faces of the commuters as they hare past her.

This evening, I opted to walk home from work instead, despite the fact that I was now in an area thick with busses, stops and other punters waving at anything that looks like it has spare seats. When I left the office it was still light, but by the time I nearly got home, it was half-and-half.