and so my day begins… the alarm goes off and jolts me from my dreams and i find myself in the kitchen, making a cup of tea.
it’s 7am. it’s raining.
today i am heading to Glenrothes – to dogsit my brother’s springer spaniels. two of. i have missed their goofy faces since i moved out.
i run a bath – the warm water envelopes me, cleanses me. the fog of my dreams begins to lift as i sip my organic tea.
i dress, pack up and go. it’s still raining.
my bus is at 10:18hrs. the walk to the bus stop is a steep incline, but the ride is short.
the bus arrives on time and i sit at the front, by a misted window.
all the windows are misted up. the rain batters the windscreen. i close my eyes and rest my head against the moist window. the drone of the engine as it whines and groans through the gears, coupled with the sound of the tyres sloshing along the wet road, is almost meditative. i feel calm.
the bus rumbles into the railway town of Thornton where it stops and a fat man in an orange anorak alights, and immediately tries to light a roll-up cigarette he had tucked behind his ear. i watch as he battles with the rainfall. despite his best efforts to shield the coveted smoke from the driving rain, the flame is forever being extinguished. realising his fag is now sodden, he ditches it in a temper and stomps off – pulling the hood of his anorak up tight around his red, round, pudding face.
i am almost at my destination. the bus rattles around the road, bouncing over each speed bump. my head rattles off the window pane. i sit up. what’s that sound?
someone at the rear of the bus keeps farting. i hear a fellow passenger snigger.
jesus christ. it sounds like a bed sheet being torn!
we turn a corner, and still the violent emissions of ass gas continue. i am downwind of this person. i feel violated; my fresh air, compromised.
i alight two stops early, despite the rain.
(c) Kat McDonald 2014