The Bus Stop

A bus stop with no shelter. And the rain fell. Me and an old bloke stood there like hopeful lemons. 

—They’re always late. It’s all them roadworks. 

—Right. 

Silence. Then the old guy spoke again. 

—She’s dying. Me missus. I’m going to see ‘er. 

—Sorry to hear that, mate. She in a care home? 

—Yeah. 

—What’ve the doctors said? 

—It’s what they don’t say, innit? 

—Yep. And I’m off looking for work again.

—It ‘appened to me. Needed time to look after me missus. Then, they laid me off. 

—That’s our bus, Thank fuck. This rain is pissing me off.