Commuting
Filed under General • 16-01-2009 •
As I leave the house with briefcase in hand, the Moon’s still low and bright and there’s frost on the grass. I’m wearing a scarf and gloves. Overhead, a jet crawls eastwards through the clear, empty vault of the sky, its fuselage glowing like a coal in the orange light of the unrisen sun.
When the bus arrives, it’s running late, caught behind a street sweeper. It’s a single-decker instead of a double, so everyone’s packed and crowded and I have to stand in the aisle, earphones wedged in, listening to music downloads on my mobile headset.
When I get off, a cold wind’s blowing through the city centre and the traders are setting up their stalls on Corn Street, sharpening the air with the mixed smells of coffee and ice and fresh fish. The shops are opening their blinds; yesterday’s confetti blows around the Registry Office steps; a Spanish girl stops me to ask directions; the church clock strikes; and up ahead, my office tower squats, the sun catching the steam venting from the ducts in its side and roof, making it look like a missile that’s about to hurl itself at the morning sky.
Tags: Bristol • General • Misc
